In My Life
by lumaluma
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is a young, fresh-out-of-college I.T. guy who (much to his displeasure) gets forced to teach a certain irritable Englishman how to use a computer in a vaguely competent way. Though they start out with nothing but contempt for each other, things change and they end up seeing each other in a completely different way.
1. I Feel Fine

_At last, the first chapter of this story is ready! I've been working on figuring this baby out for a while, from the whole general plot down to the little details. So… expect plenty more of this one, my lovelies. This is a much lighter story than the last one I wrote for this pairing, but there'll be plenty of conflict… as you're sure to see. And yes, the title is a Beatles song. I'm looking forward to writing this, and I hope you'll look forward to reading it!_

_Read on, my friends._

* * *

Alfred was pumped. He was starting his new job today, his first_ real_ job. Nine – to – five, lunch break, paid vacation, all that jazz. The training sessions were all over, and he was finally about to start working. He pushed open the front door of the company's main office, going up to the front desk and smiling at the receptionist. "Hi! I'm the new I.T. technician." She looked up at him with an annoyed expression, which melted away almost immediately. Alfred continued, "I was told to stop by this morning to grab my I.D. tag. The name's Jones. Alfred F. Jones."

"One second, hon." She stopped typing on the computer for a moment, her long acrylic nails ceasing their clattering on the keyboard, and rolled her chair away. She pulled a folder from a drawer in her desk, rifling through it until she pulled out a laminated card that had his name and photo on it. "I'd put this on a lanyard or something if I were you, they'll want you to wear it all the time for a couple weeks, until everyone's used to seeing you around."

"Sure thing, miss. Thanks!" Alfred smiled at her, nodded, and went to the elevator to wait with everyone else, all the businessmen and women with their fancy clothes and computer bags. Behind him, he heard the receptionist talking with another woman.

"Sylvie, get a load of the new I.T. guy!"

"Ooh, he's a cutie. Maybe my computer will be acting up a little more than usual…" Alfred glanced over his shoulder and saw both women blush. He shrugged, stepping into the elevator. Hey, if it'd keep him busy, he wouldn't mind the ladies ogling him. He pressed the button for the fifth floor, smiling to himself. Well, this day was starting out pretty nicely!

…

When he got to the I.T. office, he ran into his boss almost right away. He'd met the man a few days earlier, and he was pleased when the other man grinned at him and gave him a high five. "Hey, Al! Welcome to geeks' paradise. Lemme get you a map of the building, you'll need it at first."

"Thanks, Mr. Beilschmidt."

"No prob. And call me Gilbert. Or Gil. Whatever you want. Oh yeah, grab yourself a coffee from the break room." Gilbert passed him a map. "So, most of our guys are stuck working from the basement thru the fourth floor, but we're gonna have you on floors six thru eight."

"Isn't that-?"

"Where the big shots work? Yeah, it is. We've got high expectations for you, kiddo."

"Good to know, I guess."

Gilbert laughed, then handed him a pager. "This is your pager. I'm sure they told you about it during training."

"Yeah, they did. It'll buzz when I'm needed, and the number of times it beeps is what floor I'm needed on. Then I ask that floor's receptionist who needs me, and she'll give me the office number or whatever."

"Exactly! This system is the only thing that works in a building like this, since there are so many floors. I came up with it, actually! I guess my German blood's good for something. Oh yeah, you're probably gonna be stuck on the seventh floor most of the time, though."

"Huh?"

"There are a few good reasons we hired you. One, you're overqualified. Most guys come in with a two-year degree, but you've got a bachelor's. Two, we need someone who actually wants to work their way up the ladder, and you're plenty ambitious. My office has room for three people, and I'm the only one in there. It gets pretty lonely sometimes. Three, we need someone competent to work with a guy on the seventh floor. He's been here over _four years_ now, and he still can't figure out how to work a simple spreadsheet."

"What, is he stupid or something?"

Gilbert laughed. "Nope, not at all. He'd be out the door in a minute if he was. He's brilliant, but only if he can work on paper."

Alfred sighed. "So, I'm pretty much gonna be this guy's personal assistant?"

"Sort of. You'd better get used to him." Gilbert made a face. "He's kind of a dick, just a heads-up."

"I can deal with that much! C'mon, I went to high school." Alfred grinned, and Gilbert clapped him on the back. He clipped his nametag to his polo shirt, sticking a pen in the pocket for good measure. If he was gonna be an I.T. geek, he had to look the part. His pager buzzed just as he clipped it to his belt and beeped quietly seven times. Alfred checked it quickly, and then turned to his boss. "Well, I'm off!"

"Good luck. And trust me, if that's who I think it is, you're gonna need it!"

Alfred took the elevator up to the seventh floor, and didn't bother knocking on the door of the office where his first job of the day was. "Hiya, you rang?"

A man spun around in his swivel chair, looked Alfred up and down, and sighed. "Don't most people usually knock when entering a room?" He had a pleasant voice and a soft British accent, but he had a positively _venomous_ look in his eyes.

Alfred tried to look unfazed, shrugging into the office and closing the door behind him. "Well, I'm not most people. You need help, right?"

The man glared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously, but Alfred just smiled right back. Eventually, the other man relaxed, sighing and scooting his chair away from his desk. He gestured at his laptop. "Fine. Fix the blasted thing. It won't let me open any files from my flash drive."

Well, that problem was either really easy to fix or really tricky. Alfred stepped forward, inspecting the computer's USB port. "Will it read your flash drive at all?"

"No, it won't."

"Huh. Lemme see what I can do." Alfred blew into the USB port, took the man's flash drive, uncapped it, and blew into it as well, and he couldn't help but smirk to himself when he saw the skeptical look the other man was giving him. He plugged in the flash drive, smiling when the computer made a happy little 'boop!' noise. A window popped up, and Alfred stepped away from the computer. "Fixed it."

"How does that even…?"

"They don't teach you that trick in school. I only know that from years of video game playing. Rule number one: if it doesn't work, blow on it."

The man shrugged. "Well, that was easy."

"Yep." Alfred stuck out his hand. "The name's Jones, by the way. Alfred F. Jones. I'm your floor's new tech guy."

The other man shook his hand gingerly, not bothering to get out of his chair. "Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. Project manager of the Research and Development department."

"So you're like, a head honcho or something?"

"Something like that, yes. Now, I have to get back to work."

Just then, Alfred's pager went off. Eight beeps. Yikes, that was the top floor. "Well, look at that. So do I. Call if you need anything, okay?"

"Of course. Good day." Arthur waved him off, and Alfred left.

His next job was fairly easy, if a little scary, since he was helping the CEO's right-hand man. The one after that was a piece of cake as well, and the lady he helped was really quite nice, getting him a cup of coffee from the nice machines while he worked. Before he knew it, about half an hour after he had left it, he was back at Arthur's office. He didn't knock this time either, just barging in again.

"Back again! What's up?"

"Please, knock next time. And I think I deleted something I shouldn't have."

"What, like you put it in the recycle bin?"

"No, I think I permanently deleted a program."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Move over, I got this." When he had fixed it, and stepped back, presenting the computer to Arthur again, the Englishman just rolled his chair back over.

"Ah, much better."

"Yeah, that's my job."

"All right, we're done here." Arthur waved him off again, barely giving him a second glance.

That was pretty much how the whole day played out. When Alfred left for the day, looking forward to an evening of chilling on the couch, he picked up dinner on the way home. As soon as he got in the door, he texted his brother.

'_yo, mattie! sup?'_

'_Not much. Classes are fine. You?'_

'_just got off work'_

'_How'd that go?'_

Alfred thought for a moment before replying. _'my boss is cool but 1 of the guys i work 4 is kinda a grade-a asshole'_

'_Meaning?'_

'_i fixed his computer like 8 times and he didnt say thanks once!'_

'_Well that sucks.'_

'_yeah, ik. but its ok, ill get him tomorrow!'_

'_You do that :)'_

Whenever Matthew texted back with an emoticon, Alfred knew it meant he was done texting. So Alfred tossed his phone on the couch, sitting down and pulling a box of Chinese food out of the bag he was carrying. He switched on the T.V. as he lay down on the couch, swearing when he spilled noodles on his chest. "Aw, shit. Now I gotta wash this shirt." He sighed, scooping the noodles off his shirt and sneakily slipping them in his mouth. Not like anyone was going to judge him for it, he was home alone.

The news was on, so Alfred grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels. They were just going on about some election in a different state anyways. Booooooring. So he settled on an action movie, deciding to just relax until he had to go do laundry. Stupid Chinese food.

…

The next couple days were pretty much the same as his first day, and Alfred was getting tired of putting up with Arthur's shit. And he barely knew the guy. Arthur called him into his office for help all the time, and never thanked him once. Well, Alfred decided, fuck that. The stupid jerk would start being grateful, or he'd start fucking up his computer on purpose. But then he'd have to spend even more time around him… ugh, never mind. Bad idea.

Alfred was trying to enjoy a bagel and a cup of coffee in the break room, but his buzzer went off. He sighed, and then brightened up when it only beeped six times. Thank god, not Arthur! Of course, when he was in the middle of helping the person who had buzzed him, his pager went off again. Seven beeps. Shit. He ran up the stairs as fast as he could when he was done helping the women fix her computer's internet connection (something he didn't expect her to know how to fix, so it was okay). Alfred burst into Arthur's office.

"Took you long enough. I've been waiting ten minutes now, you know, and I have things to do."

Alfred rolled his eyes. Man, what an _asshole. _"Well, excuuuuse me, princess! I hadn't realized you were _so_ much more important than everyone else in this building. I was busy helping someone else, and you know why? 'Cuz I've got stuff to do too. Jeez, deflate your head a bit, I'm not here just to be bossed around by you." Arthur glared at him, and Alfred glared right back. "So, what's wrong with your computer _this_ time?"

"It won't hook up to the projector."

Oh, for fuck's sake… Alfred had shown him how to do that just the day before! He sighed and shook his head. "Okay, whatever. Move over and let me fix it." When he was finished, he turned to Arthur. "There. And the next time you need help with something like that, sacrifice your pride a little and ask one of your colleagues for help. They'll know what to do."

"I'll keep that in mind." Arthur spun back around in his chair.

Alfred rolled his eyes, muttering, "You're welcome, dick." He slammed the door on his way out, and a man coming out of the office next to him smirked.

"Helping out Kirkland, huh?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. Jeez, he really has no idea how to use that thing, am I right?"

"Don't get me started on that. I'm his boss." The man sighed. "He's been working for me ever since he got transferred over from our English branch, but he's still clueless when it comes to technology. I'm considering making him take a computer class… again."

"So he's done 'em before?"

"Twice."

"Yikes." Alfred grimaced.

"I know. We're actually going to probably have one of you I.T. people work with him, you know, like a private tutor. I've talked with the head of that department, and he says it's fine with him. I'm actually on my way to meet with him right now."

"Poor bastard who gets stuck with him."

"Oh, I know."

They laughed and parted ways, Alfred going back downstairs. Maybe now he'd be able to finish his bagel. Man, he was gonna laugh so hard at whoever had to work with Arthur…

"What do you mean, I have to do it?"

"You're the new kid. That's how it goes. Sorry Al, but at least you're getting paid overtime."

"I have to stay after office hours and teach _that_ jerk-" he paused and pointed up at the ceiling, "how to use a computer?"

"Yep. So get used to the idea." Gilbert shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "I'd do it, but I've got things to do after work. Sorry, man. I'll bring donuts tomorrow to make up for it."

"Donuts aren't gonna make this better."

"I know, but you're not allowed to drink on the job, or I'd bring beer. But hey, cheer up! You'll get extra money."

"Which is gonna go straight to getting a therapist." Alfred was only kidding a little bit. This guy was gonna be the cause of plenty of headaches, he could feel it.

…

Instead of just bitching about it to someone, he decided he'd rather spend his last stress-free evening hanging out with someone, so he called up a friend. "Hey, dude! You should _so_ come over! I got that new game everyone's been yakking about, and I think we should totally break it in together."

"I have a report due on Thursday, but…"

"C'mon, Kiku, don't be such a hardass! I'm not gonna have a free night for a while."

"Fine, I'll be right over."

"Awesome! Thanks, dude!"

He had met the Japanese man in high school, when they were both still awkward teenagers. Kiku's family had just moved to America, and he barely spoke any English. The two somehow bonded over a mutual love of video games and technology, much to everyone's surprise. Anyways, they had stayed in touch all through college, and were now lounging around on Alfred's couch and shooting at zombies. Digital zombies on the television screen, granted, but still. Zombies.

Alfred decided on a whim that maybe he should get some of his complaining out of the way, so he sighed. "Man, after tonight I'm gonna be stuck helping this guy at my work figure out how to like, actually _use_ a computer."

"Mm."

"He's a total dick, too! I mean, a really frickin' sexy dick, but still a dick."

"Mm."

"Seriously, you'd swear he has a stick shoved up his ass all the time! All I've ever seen him do is work, and I feel sorta bad for his family. Hell, does he even have a family? I dunno if he's married or not. I'm just kind of assuming so."

"Mm."

"Hey, Kiku."

"Mm?"

"You listening?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good, just checking."

"You know, I'm missing book club for this. I had to call to let them know."

Alfred paused the game, staring wide-eyed at Kiku. "Book club?"

"Yes, book club."

"What are you, some middle-aged suburban mom?"

"Don't be silly. The man who organizes makes it fun, and it's always interesting when we meet up. You should join."

"Pshaw, yeah. I'm _totally_ the book club type. Seriously, unless you're reading action novels or something kinda cool, there's no way I'd read any of that crap." Alfred resumed the game, shaking his head slowly.

"It's not crap, Alfred. You'd like it, I think."

"Whatevs. Hey, watch out! That zombie's gonna bite your head off!" Kiku killed it without even looking at the screen, and Alfred sighed. "Dude, you've seriously gotta teach me how to do that."

"Practice makes perfect."

"Don't go all 'Buddhist master' on me. I swear, you're gonna start calling me 'young grasshopper' next." When Kiku just looked at him blankly, Alfred waved him off. "Never mind. Let's just play the game, 'kay?"

"Mm."

…

The next day, after spending all day taking the elevator up and down floors, Alfred decided he'd start taking the stairs. That counted for exercise, right? At least, it should. And when his buzzer went off during his lunch break, he ignored it in favor of playing games on his phone. Screw Arthur, he needed a bit of time to just rest in between jobs.

By the time he strolled upstairs, casually leaning against the doorway of the Englishman's office, Arthur was obviously pretty furious. "Do you enjoy antagonizing me? I have to get this done by tomorrow, and I can't figure it out at all. If you would just do your job and work this out, I'd have it done already!"

Alfred laughed triumphantly in his head. Finally, someone other than him was frustrated. "Sorry, it was my lunch break. A guy can only go so many hours without eating, yanno?" Arthur's eye twitched and Alfred had to suppress a smirk. Hoo boy, he was _pissed_. Awesome. "Well, lemme see what I can do. What's the problem?"

"That thing there won't let me resize the data table or move it anywhere else."

"That's because you're in the wrong program for that. You'll need to copy your data somewhere else if you want to do that, especially if you're trying to put text in there as well. Here, try making a table in Word instead." Alfred pulled it up and showed Arthur what to do quickly.

"Is that really all I have to do?"

"Yep. Go for it."

When Arthur had actually managed to make a working data table, he looked rather impressed with himself. "Well, that wasn't so bad."

"Always check what program you're using, 'kay?"

"I will." Alfred was about to leave when Arthur shrugged. "Thank you for that."

Alfred paused in the doorway. "You're… welcome."

"Mm. Starting today, I'm getting tutoring on this, after a fashion. I don't know which of your men has been assigned to teach me, but I'll find out tonight."

"Well, he's got his work cut out for him." Alfred couldn't help himself, though he knew he'd probably regret the comment later. He left with a quick wave over his shoulder and a "See ya!" Hey, Arthur had actually thanked him for once! That was new. New and pretty nice. Alfred shrugged, going on with his day.

…

That evening, when he was done with his day shift and was alone on the fifth floor (which was surprisingly creepy when no one was there—Alfred chalked that up to watching too many horror movies), he ate the sandwich he had packed for dinner, and ran for the elevator before anything really creepy could happen. One of the lights over his head kept flickering, and though he knew it was dumb, it made him feel a bit uneasy. He pressed the button for the seventh floor once he was in the elevator, hoping there wouldn't be a serial killer or something on the other side of the doors when they opened.

There wasn't, and he went down the hall to Arthur's office. The seventh floor was less creepy, mostly because the lights were all on. As he walked down the hall, he realized didn't know if it was good or bad that he knew exactly which room Arthur's office was.

Arthur was still eating dinner, but Alfred didn't want to stand in the doorway awkwardly and wait like a creeper (especially not if there was a serial killer creeping around the building), so he knocked on the doorframe. Arthur turned around, spilled what looked like soup on himself, and promptly swore. "Bloody hell, that's hot! Ow. Well, come on in." He grabbed a napkin, wiping his lap, and didn't look up until Alfred had sat in the chair on the opposite side of the desk, but when he did, his face flickered through confusion, annoyance, and finally resignation. "So, you're my… tutor?"

"Yep. Sorry 'bout your pants."

"No, that was my fault. I need to stop eating messy foods at work."

Alfred peeked into his bowl and saw he was eating stew. "I know the feeling. I got tomato soup on my sweater yesterday."

Arthur sighed, pushing his food away. "All right, let's get this over with. Do you have a curriculum or anything?"

"Uh… no, but I have a sort of game plan. I figured tonight we'll go over the basics, see how much you already know, and give up when we're both pulling out hair out." Arthur rolled his eyes, and Alfred sighed internally. Back to square one. "Look, I'm not exactly pleased about this either. Usually I'd be at home and relaxing right about now. Let's just try to make this as painless as possible, 'kay? Do what I say, and things will go way smoother."

"Fine," Arthur snapped, pulling his laptop towards him. He was quite snippy, and remained that way for the entire evening, and eventually Alfred was on the verge of just picking up the potted plant in the corner and bashing him repeatedly over the head with it. The stubborn bastard flat-out _refused_ to listen to him! And nothing Alfred said or did seemed to make it better. It made him secretly wish there _was_ a serial killer in the building, so he could use Arthur as a shield and make a break for it.

When he finally got home, Alfred collapsed on the couch. "Gaaah… someone please kill me!" He fumbled around for his phone, pressing speed dial, knowing exactly who he was calling.

Matthew picked up on the second ring. "Al, you do know it's almost nine 'o' clock, right? I'm studying right now!"

"Bitch, please. I just got off work."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You remember the asshole I told you about?"

"What about him?"

"I'm now his private computer tutor. Hey, that rhymes! Anyways, he's still being a total dick."

"Oh. That bites. That _really_ sucks."

"Tell me 'bout it. I swear, we only have to work late three times per week, but I'm gonna kill him by next Tuesday. If he were a fast learner, it'd be different, but he's super stubborn!"

"Stuck in his own ways, eh?"

"You bet your ass. If I didn't have to get up for work early tomorrow morning, I'd be getting totally shit-faced right now."

"I know the feeling. How about we meet up for drinks this weekend? I don't have any major assignments due or anything like that for a while. It's actually kind of nice to have free time!"

"Sounds great. Text me whatever time's best for you, 'kay? And dude, be ready for a total bitch-fest. I'm _so_ pissed off, and I've got at least another five weeks of this shit!"

"Be as stubborn as him, Al. Stay strong."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm gonna go have a shower and pretend my pillow is Arthur and throw it against the wall a few times."

"You do that. Just don't bug the neighbours. I'll talk to you later, Al."

"Yeah. Thanks for letting me whine, Mattie!"

"That's what brothers are for. Just don't kill him, okay? We don't need a murderer in the family."

"I know, I know. Catch you later, bro!" He hung up, getting off the couch and tossing his phone on his bed as he went to grab a towel. By the time he was out of the shower, the hot water had helped to soothe his inner rage a bit, and he only punched his least favorite pillow a few times before deciding sleep would be a better way to chill out. He threw his pillow at the wall, smirking when it landed on the floor with a thump. Still, he was pissed off enough that he had to put a pillow over his head to be able to actually get to sleep.

Man, these next few weeks were gonna be _hell_.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! Any and all feedback is appreciated, as always. I'll be updating fairly quickly, so don't worry!_


	2. We Can Work It Out

_Merp. Long chapter is long. But hey, a lot happens! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and all of that so far. This has gotten a lot more feedback that I expected… not that I'm complaining. And a big thank-you to Zeplerfer, who has been a supporter of my stories for a while now, and gave me some great suggestions for this one! I'm always open to idea you guys have, so don't hold back!_

_So read on, and don't forget to be awesome!_

* * *

Another painful night spent at the office. This time, Alfred couldn't hold back all of his frustration, and he took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh. My. God. Just _listen_, will you?"

"I _am_ listening, you're just not making any sense! First you say 'double-click this' now you're saying 'don't double-click that'! Which is it?"

"_Don't_ double-click things like your font size or command buttons. When you're opening a program from your desktop, double-click it."

"So, don't double-click this?"

"No."

Arthur sighed, exasperated. "But it's just a button-"

"It's a program. If you click it once, it's just gonna highlight it." Alfred rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I'm gonna go prematurely grey."

Arthur ran a hand through his own hair with a huff. "And how do you think _I _feel?"

Alfred blinked. He had just realized that he wasn't the only one getting stressed out by all of this. Yeah, he hated Arthur and his pompous, dickish attitude, but maybe Arthur hated his guts too. When Arthur shot him a poisonous glare, Alfred had to smirk. Oh, Arthur _definitely_ hated him. It was only the third time they had stayed after work together, and they had already come close to throttling each other several times. It made Alfred wonder, was Arthur always this much of a pain in the ass, in or out of the office? Hell, maybe he wasn't this big of a douchebag when he wasn't using a computer. But as it was, Arthur _was _being a douchebag, and he_ was_ using a computer. He always seemed tired, too.

Alfred sighed, continuing to point out things Arthur could to stop screwing up his computer, but his mind was somewhere else. Did he have a family, and that was why he was so pissed about staying late? Alfred checked his hands. No wedding ring. Well, maybe he had a girlfriend. He decided to ask, just to see if Arthur was more than just an angry, stubborn man. "So… you got a family or something?"

"No."

"Okay… what about a girlfriend?"

"No." Arthur rolled his eyes, looking utterly bored, and Alfred sighed internally. So much for making him seem more human. Maybe he really was a grumpy, heartless robot. "Do you?"

Arthur's sudden question made Alfred snap back to attention. "Huh?"

"Do you have a family or anything?"

"Uh… no." Oh, great. He really wasn't any better than Arthur at all. He probably came across as a total jerk, too. Alfred grimaced to himself. He was just as bad after all. Man. No wonder Arthur was so pissy around him. They were _both_ being assholes. Whoops.

Alfred went home that night feeling both exasperated with himself and with Arthur. Usually it would take Matthew telling him he was behaving like a self-centered meathead before he realized how bad he was being, but not this time. Alfred started to feel a little guilty. This really, really _horrible_ working relationship he had with Arthur was definitely partially his fault. The stubborn part of his brain said, 'So what? He was rude first!' while the rational part said, 'You'd better get to fixing this, buddy. It's only gonna get worse from here on out."

So, the choice was simple: either continue being snarky until either he or Arthur finally snapped, or fess up to the fact that he probably wasn't helping Arthur as much as he could, and certainly not in the nicest way he could. Now… which was the lesser of two evils? Alfred pondered that as he brushed his teeth, spitting into the sink and watching the foamy toothpaste get swept away by the water, swirling down the drain. He shrugged. Meh, he could always sleep on it. The next tutoring session wasn't for a couple days, so he had time to decide. Even if he still had to deal with Arthur during the day... ugh.

…

It was early in the day, and Alfred's pager hadn't gone off for a good twenty minutes. He was sitting in the break room, drinking a cup of coffee and relaxing. Well, trying to. He kept shooting nervous glances at his pager, expecting it to go off at any second. Like a time bomb, almost. When it finally did, seven beeps, of course, he sighed and snatched up his coffee. If he was going to deal with Arthur, he at least wanted coffee while he did so.

In the end, it wasn't Arthur after all, but someone else who worked on the seventh floor. A woman was having serious issues with her computer's wireless connection, and she thanked Alfred profusely when he fixed it. He just smiled and nodded at her, ready to get back downstairs. He passed by Arthur's office on his way to the stairs, and seeing that the door was wide open, he peeked inside as he walked past. But he didn't see Arthur in his chair as he usually would, but instead on his hands and knees under the desk, ass sticking out, fiddling with a couple cables and cursing under his breath. Alfred raised his eyebrows. Was Arthur seriously avoiding paging him? He definitely didn't look like he knew what he was doing. But damn, his ass looked good in those slacks. Whoa, where the hell did that come from?

Alfred shook his head a few times, clearing his thoughts before stepping forward and knocking on the doorframe. The Englishman wiggled out from under his desk, narrowly avoiding bumping his head. Arthur stood up, smoothing his hair down (though really, it didn't do much to fix it) and brushing off his knees. When he saw it was Alfred in the doorway, he crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Can I help you?"

"Actually, that's just what I was about to ask you. Need help?"

"Well…" Arthur sighed. "I may have caught a cable with my foot and unplugged it, and now I can't find where it goes."

Alfred shrugged. "No prob. I'll have this done in two seconds flat!" It actually took him closer to two minutes, and he ended up bonking his head on the edge of Arthur's desk when he crawled out from under it. "Ow. Done." It looked like Arthur was repressing a smirk, and Alfred was about to glare at him when a little voice in the back of his head said, 'Remember, don't be a jerk!' So he forced himself to smile brightly instead. "Well, if you need anything else, don't hesitate to call!"

He waved over his shoulder as he left, still smiling, and almost laughing at the utterly perplexed look on Arthur's face. Yep, being nice was gonna be fun. Maybe almost as fun as being a dick.

…

The next evening, when he had eaten dinner and figured he had waited long enough for Arthur to eat, Alfred trudged up the stairs and into Arthur's office. Time for phase one of his brilliant plan: get Arthur to stop being such a complete ass all the time. So, when Arthur spun around in his swivel chair, sighed, and said, "Let's just get this over with," Alfred shook his head.

"Wait one minute."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at Alfred. "Oh?"

"Yeah. So… I can tell you really don't like me."

"No, really? Whatever gave you that idea?" The sarcasm in his voice was almost painfully exaggerated.

Alfred sighed. "I'm being serious here. I know you don't like me, and you know I don't like you. But we've got, like, five more weeks of this, and it's only gonna get worse from here on out."

"And your point is…?"

"We need to stop being jerks. Both of us. And I think we should start over completely."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Meaning?"

"Like, start from a blank state. Nothing from when I first walked into your office up until now matters."

"Fine. If it'll make you stop talking and get to work."

Alfred sighed internally, but plastered a smile on his face. "Okay, great!" he stuck out his hand. "Alfred F. Jones. Nice to meet you!"

Arthur gave him a look that plainly said, 'You're not _actually_ doing this, are you?' but Alfred just stayed there, hand outstretched, until Arthur shook his hand, albeit very gingerly. "Arthur Kirkland."

"Cool. So, let's get to work."

Things seemed less tense that night than usual, and Alfred could've sworn he actually managed to make Arthur smile. Okay, sure it was only because he had made a very pathetic pun, but it was still something. There were a lot fewer snarky comments thrown back and forth between them, and by the end of the night, they actually said goodbye to each other. Alfred smiled to himself as he got into his car, ready to go home and rest. Phase one was a success. Okay, so what were phase two and three? He would have to think on that one for a while.

…

It took Alfred a little more effort that he would've liked to admit in order to repress his snarky side, instead smiling whenever he felt like saying something even vaguely rude. Arthur, luckily, seemed to be holding back some of his own dickishness, maybe having picked up on Alfred's attempts to be more civil. He actually thanked Alfred every time he helped Arthur with something, and apologized when he knew something was his fault. Alfred definitely appreciated it, and it made him feel a little better about himself. It also made him wonder, was Arthur just always a dick to people?

He asked around as subtly as he could, and apparently Arthur was usually quite pleasant to be around. But when he got stressed out (which was usually due to malfunctioning technology that he didn't understand), Arthur got grumpy. _Very _grumpy. And Alfred figured that the whole problem stemmed from Arthur being in a bad mood when they first met. After all, first impressions _did_ often define how two people behaved around each other whenever they next met. At least, that was the case in Alfred's experience. He figured it was a good thing he had them start over completely, even if things were still a little awkward and tense. Better than they had been, though.

Alfred still didn't see much potential for, say, a full-blown buddy-buddy kind of relationship between the two of them, but if they could at least tolerate each other, maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He was also proud of himself for getting over the creepiness of the mostly empty building, when just a few security guards were left. Because really, the fifth floor was kind of like a horror movie set sometimes.

…

The next evening they had to stay late, Arthur was mildly pleasant to be around. Probably because he yanked his tie off right away, saying he was tired of it strangling him, and was able to bitch about that instead of bitching about Alfred. He was uncharacteristically attentive as well, actually listening to Alfred's advice and acting on it instead of being stubborn and snippy. Alfred, for his part, decided to make things a little more interesting and had Arthur use a program on his computer to calculate some random values. He had him set it up so the resulting numbers would spell a certain word when flipped upside down, which the Englishman actually noticed. "Really?"

"What?"

"Come on, we used to write that all the time on our calculators in primary school and giggle about it."

"You write 'boobies' on your calculators in England?"

"Of course we do. What else are you supposed to do in maths class?"

Alfred smirked. "I dunno, actually pay attention and learn the stuff?" They both chuckled at that, and Alfred shook his head. "Okay, true, you only really start learning the important stuff in high school."

"Exactly. I used to get smacked upside the head by my teachers for misbehaving during class. I'm sure I was a right little brat and I probably deserved it, but my parents weren't too pleased about it. That was supposed to be their job, after all."

"Hey, I got detention in fifth grade for standing up and asking when we were actually gonna use the crap we learned. Truth is, I haven't done manual subtraction since like, sixth grade."

"Thank goodness for calculators."

"Especially ones we can spell 'boobies' on." Alfred grinned. "I remember in high school, with a couple friends, I wrote a number-based code. We used to write stuff back and forth. Not nice stuff, either. We'd usually use it to bitch about our teachers, and they just thought we were working on programming something. Yeah, we were geeks, but we were cool geeks."

Arthur raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Cool geeks? Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"Not at all. C'mon, I was captain of the basketball team and prom king. At my school, being smart was actually considered important. And sure, it helped if you had a cute face and all, but intelligence was definitely a boost for popularity."

"Well, that would be a nice change from most schools." Arthur shrugged. "I'll admit it, I was a little more bookish, if my complete lack of technological competence hasn't already made that much clear. And no, before you ask, I wasn't on a chess team or anything like that."

"How'd you guess?"

"It's what everyone asks. And I wish I was kidding." He shrugged and tapped a few keys on his laptop. "All right, is that all for tonight?"

"Pretty much, yep. Unless you've got any questions, we're done here."

Arthur made a face. "Well… I do have one question, but it's not about computers."

"M'kay, let's hear it."

"I can't quite figure something out with my mobile."

"That means cell phone, right?"

"Yes, it does. And I may have locked it and then forgotten my PIN."

"Oh, okay. Let me see it." Arthur pulled his phone out of his pocket and passed it to Alfred, who turned it on and pressed a few buttons. "Can you think of any four numbers that mean something to you? Birthdays, favorite numbers, anything?"

"Not really, no."

Alfred shrugged. "Meh. I can always reset the PIN for you."

"No making it spell 'boob' if you do, thank you."

Alfred smirked. "Dang it, you caught me. Okay, it's the first four digits of pi. And if you don't know that, then I'm throwing you out the window."

"I know them."

"Good. I don't really feel like getting arrested for murder. Speaking of which, I just remembered I'm supposed to meet my brother for drinks Saturday night. I better make sure he's still free then." Arthur looked at him like he was nuts, and Alfred realized that what he said probably didn't sound quite right. "Oh, jeez. I didn't mean anything like that. It's just, we were talking about that the other night, so…"

"Do I even want to know?"

"Well, Matt told me not to murder anyone 'cuz I was talking about how this one guy was really pissing me off, so yeah…" Alfred trailed off when he remembered that 'this one guy' was Arthur. Whoops. He really didn't seem to be the same person at all, and while that was definitely nice, it was also a little strange.

Arthur waved it off. "I know the feeling, believe me. Well, thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you later." Alfred left work feeling confused but also kind of happy.

…

The next day at work, Arthur only paged him twice, and Alfred was relieved at the progress he had made just over a few nights of work. They talked while Alfred worked, mostly about different people on the seventh floor: the one guy who left his empty coffee cups around in the lounge and never threw them out, the annoying 'hey, look at my kids! I have fifty pictures of them!' guy, the woman who used so much perfume that walking by her office practically required a gas mask, all of that. Alfred avoided bringing up the openly lesbian woman whose office was right next to Arthur's, even though he thought she was pretty cool and pretty brave for having a picture of her partner on her desk. He didn't know how Arthur felt about that sort of thing, and he definitely didn't want to get into a debate about it, especially since he was pretty openly gay himself.

Besides, if Arthur was at all homophobic, it would just make things awkward and uncomfortable. And Alfred wanted to avoid that. Arthur was actually the one to bring it up, if only briefly, just saying that most people were fairly accepting of her, and that no one was openly critical about her sexual orientation. Alfred sighed with relief as quietly as he could, and then there was a sudden, stiff silence where they both seemed to want to say something, but neither of them did. Alfred finished his job quickly after that, waving over his shoulder and saying a quick goodbye.

On his way back downstairs, he wondered about Arthur. He didn't have a family or a girlfriend, but maybe he had a boyfriend? Or maybe he was single. But was he straight? Alfred had to think about that for a minute, and he sighed. Damn Europeans. He could never tell with them. But until he had tangible proof that Arthur swung one way or the other, he decided to assume that the Englishman was straight. Otherwise things could get _really_ awkward _really_ fast.

…

The next day, when Alfred went upstairs after work for the evening's tutoring session, Arthur was drinking tea. Where he got the tea or the teacup from, Alfred had no idea, but when Arthur offered him some, he accepted. Arthur pulled a teacup out of his desk drawer, and Alfred had to suppress a smile. Arthur poured the tea from a thermos on his desk, and passed the cup to Alfred. "Sorry it's a little lukewarm, but the hot water button on the coffee machine in the lounge is broken. I have sugar, if you like."

"Nah, this is good." Alfred took a sip and immediately felt like he should be sitting up very straight, wearing a tweed jacket and saying 'cheerio!' and 'pip-pip!' but he decided against it, since Arthur would probably give him a death glare (which he was surprisingly good at), and they'd be right back to square one. He did, however, pretend he actually knew something about tea. "This is a Darjeeling, right?"

"Yes, it is." Arthur nodded, and Alfred felt impressed with himself. Okay, so he only knew what different teas were called because he had been dragged to some tea shop after Matthew was dumped one time and felt like drowning his sorrows in tea. Weirdest. Night. _Ever._ Alfred didn't mention that to Arthur either, but he did mention the name of the tea shop, since it was right downtown and pretty popular. Arthur smiled. "I've been there a few times. They have a wonderfully wide selection of black teas, but I find they're rather lacking in terms of rooibos teas."

"Don't they only have two types?"

"Yes, it's rather sad."

Hurray, the two hours spent memorizing the menu while Matthew stared into a cup of tea, looking like he was about to start crying at any second, were actually paying off now! Luckily, the discussion of tea ended there, so Alfred didn't end up looking like a total asshat. Arthur seemed to have a bit more respect for him after that, and Alfred wasn't about to ruin that. Anything to keep things civil.

At the end of the night, when he was shutting down his computer and locking up his office, Arthur turned to Alfred. "Oh, by the way, could we do the next session on Thursday instead of Friday?"

"Sure, no prob. What, you got a date or something?"

Arthur snorted. "Hardly. I just have something to do that night." Ooh… something or someone? Alfred whacked himself upside the head mentally for thinking that, but he must have done something to show what he was thinking, because Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. "For goodness sake, it's nothing like that. I'm the host of a book club, that's all. You don't need to wiggle your eyebrows like that."

Oh, so that's what he had been doing. Whoops. Wait, book club? "You _host_ a book club?"

"Once a month, yes. I organise the whole thing. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Alfred suppressed a smirk, remembering how Kiku had mentioned going to book club like it was something even vaguely manly. "No, nothing wrong with it. I've got a buddy who's in a book club. It's just… don't you guys normally read boring books?"

Arthur scoffed. "Boring books? Don't be ridiculous. I don't have time to waste on romance novels and the like. These past two months, we've been reading a mystery novel. Well, it's more horror than anything else, really, but… it's a captivating read." Alfred didn't really read all that often, and he admitted as much. Arthur just shrugged. "To each his own. I find it quite a relaxing pastime, personally."

"Yeah, I was the kid who refused to read Moby-Dick in English class. The science of whales isn't exactly my favorite thing, yanno."

"Quite understandable. I had trouble working through that one as well, it's not an easy read. You can skip the fifty middle chapters and not miss much."

"Yeah." Alfred looked out the window and sighed. It was raining. "Crap, I forgot my umbrella."

"I have mine." Arthur pulled an umbrella out of his briefcase. "One of the benefits of growing up in England: you always remember an umbrella."

"Lucky you." Alfred wasn't really looking forward to getting drenched, so he was a little bit snarky. "I've lived here in Seattle for years, and it rains all the time, but I still forget mine."

Arthur laughed. "I'm not saying that to taunt you. Honestly, I'm not _that_ cruel. I'll walk you to your car."

"Oh. Well, thanks." That was surprisingly gentleman-like of Arthur. And Alfred was now regretting using his backseat as a dump for empty water and soda pop bottles.

Alfred hit his head on the metal skeleton of the umbrella a few times as they walked across the parking lot, but he didn't say anything about it. Arthur couldn't help being shorter than him, and he wasn't doing it out of malicious intent. At least, Alfred didn't think so. He unlocked his car with the remote from halfway across the parking lot, and slipped inside as quickly as he could. "See ya tomorrow."

"Good night."

Alfred slammed his car door, thankful that Arthur didn't seem to have noticed the assortment of bottles on the floor of the car. He started up the car, waving to Arthur out the window before driving off. When he got home, he remembered what Arthur had said about his book club and decided to give Kiku a call. Sure, it probably wasn't the same book club, but he was still curious. He tapped his foot, waiting for Kiku to answer.

"Yes? Kiku Honda speaking."

"Dude, it's me."

"Ah, Alfred. Do you need something?"

"Just a quick question. Do you have book club this Friday?"

"Yes, I do."

Either a coincidence or Kiku really was in Arthur's book club. "M'kay, just wondering. And the dude who runs your book club, is his name Arthur? And is he British?"

"Yes to both of those. Why?"

"So it is him! Oh, sorry. I know the guy, so I just wanted to check and make sure it was the same person I was thinking of. Thanks, man!"

"You're welcome. But why-"

"Because I'm trying to determine what kind of guys are in book clubs nowadays." That was a lie, but Alfred didn't really care. Kiku wouldn't care either.

"Oh, I see. Well, is that all?"

"Yep! I'm gonna go to bed now. Talk to you later, Kiku!"

"Yes, of course. Goodbye, Alfred."

Alfred tossed his phone on the kitchen counter, grabbing a can of pop out of the fridge, smiling triumphantly. So, Arthur and Kiku knew each other… he could use this. How, he wasn't sure, but he'd be sure to bring Kiku up at some point when he was around Arthur, and see how the Englishman would react. Not like he was trying to find ways to connect Arthur and himself… definitely not.

…

The next day, Alfred decided on a whim to go eat lunch in the cafeteria. He didn't really pay attention to where he set down his tray (though he made sure it was far away from the guy who only talked about his kids), and he only looked up once he had sat down. That was when he realized he was right across the table from Arthur. Well, wasn't that a coincidence. The Englishman was talking with the man on his left, a guy Alfred had seen around but never actually met.

"Look here, Ludwig, I don't know what's wrong with him either. As far as I can tell, he hasn't been behaving any differently than he normally does, that's all I can tell you. Has he been drinking again?"

"No more than usual, from what I can tell. Can you get someone in his department to keep an eye on him for me?"

"I'll see what I can do." They both noticed Alfred at the same time and Arthur smiled suddenly. "Well, this works out rather nicely." Alfred and Ludwig looked at each other and shrugged. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Ludwig, your brother works in the I.T. department, doesn't he?"

"Yes, but-"

"So does Alfred. Oh, right. You don't know each other. Alfred, this is Ludwig Beilschmidt. He works with me. Ludwig, this is Alfred Jones."

Ludwig nodded at him. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you. So… what exactly is going on here?"

Ludwig sighed. "My brother is a bit… eccentric, I suppose, and he's been behaving strangely lately. Well, more strangely than usual."

"Is it Gil?"

"Pardon?"

"Gilbert. The albino-looking guy. You've got the same last name." Ludwig nodded, and Alfred raised his eyebrows. "I gotta say, you two don't look much alike. So, you want me to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything _too_ weird?"

"If you don't mind."

"Nah, he's cool." Alfred shrugged. "I don't mind." He picked up the bottle of juice he had bought, twisting off the lid and taking a sip.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Well, that's taken care of."

"Yes, it is. Well, I've got a meeting in five, so I'll see you later, Arthur."

"All right."

"And Friday, we're meeting at the Vargas' place, yes?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Good." Ludwig stood up and took his tray, nodding at Alfred. "I'm sure I'll see you around, Alfred."

"Yep, and I'll see you around too." When Ludwig was gone, Alfred jerked his head in the direction he had left. "Another book club member?"

"Yes, actually. His brother doesn't always tag along, but sometimes he'll show up. _Those_ evenings are always interesting." Arthur sighed. "At least he brings beer."

Alfred smirked. "I'm pretty sure Gil would bring beer to work if he could."

"Probably." They both chuckled, and Alfred looked at his food, making a face.

"Oh, jeez. I don't even know what this is _supposed_ to be."

"Meatloaf in some kind of sauce, I believe. Don't eat the meat, by the way."

"Huh?"

"No one is entirely sure of what it is. Mystery meat, I believe it's called."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Man, I haven't eaten cafeteria food this bad since I was in high school!"

"Lucky for you. I forget to bring my lunch more often than I'd like to admit, and today I didn't have time to go pick something up." Arthur rolled his eyes and glanced at the clock. "Oh, bugger. Speaking of which, I was supposed to be in a meeting three minutes ago."

Alfred grimaced. "Yikes. Run."

"You don't mind?"

"Nah, go do your job. I'm just on my lunch break anyways."

Arthur stood up and picked up his tray, smiling at Alfred. "I'll see you later, I suppose."

"Yep. Bye!"

When Arthur left, Alfred smiled to himself. It seemed they were both being actively nice, and it didn't seem to be taking much effort anymore. That was new, and he decided he liked it. Yeah, he liked it a lot. Phase two of his plan, which he had just figured out, was in action: get to be friends with Arthur.

…

Just the next night, rather à propos to what Arthur had said the previous day, Alfred forgot his dinner. He knew exactly where it was (in his fridge at home, a twenty-minute drive away in rush hour traffic), but he was still pissed at himself. He didn't really want to eat vending machine food for supper. Alfred decided to just go up to Arthur's office, skipping dinner, fully prepared for complete apathy on Arthur's part. However, when he actually got to Arthur's office, the Englishman was looking rather embarrassed. Alfred was curious as to why, so he asked, "What's up?"

"Er… I forgot my supper. I'm sorry, I'll just run and get something from the vending machines, I suppose."

Alfred smiled, quite relieved. "Hey, don't worry. I forgot my food too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. That's what I was coming to tell you."

"Well then." Arthur grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. "I propose we take a few minutes out of tonight's lesson to go get some proper food."

"Like, go out to eat?"

"Of course! You don't _actually_ want to eat the vending machines' fare for dinner, do you?"

"Well… no." Alfred shrugged. "So, you have an idea of where to eat?"

"I know a decent noodle place just down the road, in walking distance."

"Sounds good."

Once they were in the restaurant, Alfred started to feel a little bit awkward. People were staring, or at least looking at them for more than a couple seconds, and though he wasn't normally self-conscious, he didn't want anyone thinking that he and Arthur were on a date. Because this definitely wasn't a date. Nope, not at all. Besides, as far as Alfred knew, Arthur was straight. He wasn't assuming otherwise. So not a date, just two dudes eating dinner. But just to reassure himself, as soon as they ordered, Alfred asked for it to be on separate checks.

Once the waiter was gone, Arthur drummed his fingers on the table a few times, looking out a window. Alfred took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt, trying to find a way to break the awkward silence that hung between them. He cleared his throat. "So, uh…" Arthur looked up at him, eyebrows raised, and Alfred sort of forgot what he was about to say. "Yea. So…"

"So?"

"We've been working together for a while now, but I seriously don't know a thing about you. Well, except that you like books."

Arthur nodded. "I suppose that's true. I don't know much about you either. Well, what would you like to know?"

Alfred shrugged, and then smiled at the waiter who came over to give them glasses of water. "Thanks. Anyways, I guess… do you have any family members here?"

"No, they're all back in England. It's just the cat and me at home."

"Same here, except I don't have a cat. My landlord won't let anyone have pets."

"You're in an apartment?"

"Yep. I've been in the same place since I got out of the dorms at college. It's kinda lonely, living alone, but I can always call up a friend to hang out with or my brother."

"You've mentioned your brother before. Are you two close?"

"Yeah. Matt and I are twins, so we grew up pretty close. Oh yeah, his name's Matthew. Duh." Alfred rolled his eyes. "Forgot to mention that. We went to the same college and all, but he's still in school. Working on his Master's. He wants to do humanitarian work in a third-world country or help poor kids or something like that once he graduates. He's the good kid."

"And you're the bad son?"

"Well, pretty much. I was the one my parents always worried about, until… well, until I grew up enough." He had almost said 'until I came out' and had barely stopped himself in time. Phew, saved. He cleared his throat. "Are you an only child?"

"Oh, I wish. I have three brothers, all of them complete asshats." When Alfred laughed, Arthur sighed. "I'm not joking. We were the reason my parents couldn't buy nice things. Our mother used to lock us out of the house on nice days. And not-so-nice days, if we were being particularly horrid."

"Wow. Matt and I only got into fights when he wanted to watch hockey and I wanted to watch basketball. Or football. Or baseball. But at least he liked soccer, so we watched that if neither of us could keep control of the remote for more than a couple minutes. My dad used to yell 'Don't make me come down there!' and we'd usually stop fighting then."

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "My father couldn't be bothered when we got to a certain age. Apparently, he decided that we were capable of working things out amongst ourselves."

Alfred smirked. "Lucky. I could _totally_ take Matt in a fight, and I think our parents just didn't want me beating on him too much. Unless he has a hockey stick on him… then he's lethal. Learned _that_ the hard way a while back."

Arthur laughed at that, and Alfred found himself smiling for some reason. This was actually turning out to be a lot nicer than he thought it would. But it still wasn't like a date or anything. Not at all. Arthur was just being nice. Right?

While they were eating and just talking, Alfred was desperately trying to discern whether or not Arthur's intentions were more than just friendly. And he nearly ended up bonking his head against the table with frustration. Apparently, since Arthur had stopped pissing him off, he had found a new way to drive Alfred nuts. Damn Europeans! Alfred could figure out computers in two seconds flat, but his gaydar failed him terribly whenever he met someone foreign. Especially if he was secretly hoping that the person in question was actually gay… wait, he wasn't doing that with Arthur, though. Right? The guy was just a colleague. A really good-looking, kind of funny, colleague with a sweet accent and a nice ass. Fuck.

Alfred spaced out when they were walking back to the office, but he sure as hell noticed when his hand accidentally brushed against Arthur's. They both shoved their hands into their pockets right away, Alfred casting a quick glance at Arthur's face. He didn't really look any different than he usually did, and Alfred rolled his eyes. Great. Now he really couldn't tell what was going on in Arthur's head. But it did look like maybe Arthur was blushing a bit, and he looked over at Alfred once, looking away when their eyes met. Was he just embarrassed and feeling awkward, or was it something else? Alfred couldn't think of any easy ways of figuring that out without obviously giving away that he was gay, so he decided not to bother.

But during the lesson, he let himself lean a little closer to Arthur than he usually would when he pointed things out, trying to be subtle enough that it could seem accidental. When it was late enough to just call it a night, Alfred stretched his arms over his head, high enough for his un-tucked shirt to ride up a little. "Tonight was pretty productive, all things considered. You're improving a lot, by the way."

"Glad to hear you think so as well."

"Hey, it's nothin' but the truth."

Arthur shrugged, shutting down his laptop and grabbing his briefcase. "Thank you."

"No prob." Alfred, not about to leave without at least one vaguely suggestive remark, grabbed his coat and slipped it on. "Oh, by the way, you smell good. New cologne?"

Arthur smiled. "Ah, aftershave, actually."

"Cool. Well, I'll see ya later."

"Good night, Alfred."

Alfred smiled and waved goodbye, not dropping his happy little façade until he was in his car and ready to go. He glared at the dashboard as he started up his car. He still didn't have a clue about Arthur. "Well, shit. So much for that." It pissed him off, not being able to tell one way or another. Goddamn British guys and their confusing behavior.

…

One night, Alfred was just sitting alone at home, playing games on his computer, trying to keep his mind off of things. After successfully freaking himself out to the point where one of his neighbors banged on the wall and told him to shut up (goddamn horror video games, indie games weren't even supposed to be that scary!), he decided he needed to talk to someone before he got super paranoid and started throwing things at the shadows in his apartment. So he checked to see if anyone was actually on skype or anything, and when he saw Kiku was active, he grinned and called him. The Japanese man looked genuinely curious as to why Alfred was calling him, so Alfred decided to cut to the chase. "Dude, I just nearly pissed myself."

"Were you playing Erie again?"

"Yeah." Alfred shuddered. "I swear, my heart is still going a million miles an hour. And I can never beat that game!"

"I told you never to play it in the dark. Or alone."

"I forgot, so sue me." Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just need to talk to someone so I stop freaking out."

"All right, what do you want to talk about?" Kiku was fiddling with something off camera, so Alfred used that as a starting point.

"First things first, what the hell are you doing?"

"My pocky won't open."

"Oh. Never mind. So, uh… how was book club yesterday?"

"It was fun. We finished our book this past month, so it was mostly about suggesting what books we might read next. And that means Arthur will be sorting through them to find out which ones he likes." Kiku smiled. "I think the main reason he's in charge is because he refuses to read anything he doesn't like." Kiku apparently had managed to get his pocky open, as he stuck one of the sticks in his mouth.

"Well, he is pretty damn stubborn." Alfred shook his head, sighing. "Trust me, I know that from experience."

"Is he the man you were complaining about a little while ago?"

"Uh… maybe. Just maybe. But in my defense, he was really being a dick!" Alfred put his hands up, confused as to why Kiku seemed to be holding back a grin. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering if you are the person he was complaining to me about."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he was very irritated with the person who was tutoring him. We meet up for tea occasionally, and the last time, all he wanted to do was call this one person at his work an 'arsehole'. I almost called him 'Alfred' at one point, I believe, because he sounded so much like you."

"Kiku, you're a jerk. Anyways, you're actually _friends_ with this guy? Like, how?"

"He's quite nice once you get to know him. A little too strong-willed sometimes, but he means well. But when I spoke to him at book club, he didn't mention anything about this person who was annoying him so. However, he did mention someone at his work with your name, and I explained that we know each other."

"So?"

"So, he mentioned that you two went out for dinner."

Alfred coughed. "That was an accident. Really. We both forgot our dinner before the lesson that night. It was a complete accident, dude!" he shrugged. "Besides, why do you care?"

"Because both of you are friends of mine, and it's good to see you getting along."

"Pshaw, I'm just putting up with his dickishness instead of being rude."

"Funny, because he said the same thing when I said that to him. Only he said it a little less bluntly."

"What'd he say? No, don't tell me, I want to guess." Alfred cleared his throat, and then put on his best British accent. "Honestly chap, I'm just being tolerant of his behavior. If it weren't for me, we wouldn't be getting along at all. Now, would you like some more tea?" Kiku full-out laughed at that, something that almost _never_ happened. Alfred could probably count the number of times he had heard his friend's real laugh on one hand. Kiku tried to speak, then dissolved into giggles, so Alfred grinned, slipping back into his normal voice. "Let me guess, he said exactly that."

"Yes." Kiku shook his head, putting on his straight face again. "That was it. But if you don't like him at all, why can you imitate him so well?"

"Cuz I spend three nights a week alone with him, that's why. Jeez." Alfred rolled his eyes. "It's nothing, dude. Trust me."

"Then why do you have that face?"

"What face?"

"You look like you don't want to admit something."

"Well, I dunno what you're talking 'bout."

"If you say so. But believe me, Arthur is easier to get along with than you'd think. Just be nice to him, and he'll be nice back."

"I've been trying, bro. And I'm sorta succeeding. But why are you so worried about this? You got a crush on him or something?" Kiku looked at him blankly, and Alfred could tell he was unimpressed, even though the resolution of Kiku's face on the screen was pretty crappy. "Okay, okay, just kidding. Forget I said that."

"I'm just wondering why you're lying to yourself. Or to me."

"Now what are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. I can just tell there's something you aren't telling me, and you're not going to tell me either."

"Well, I ain't hiding nothing."

"So you are hiding something?"

"No. And I know I've told you before, ignore double negatives!"

"Fine, if you say so." Kiku looked off-screen, and sighed. "Well, it's getting late. I should get to bed soon."

"Okay, okay. Maybe I'm not telling you something. But I dunno how to say it either, so…" he shrugged. "I'm trying to figure something out over here. Once I get it figured out, I'll tell you. But right now I'm still in the hypothesis stage, so give it time."

"All right. Good night, Alfred."

"Night, dude. And you're super manipulative sometimes, you know that?" Kiku just smiled and hung up, so Alfred shook his head and exited out of skype. Man, why were the people close to him so damn observant? Alfred planned to stay far away from Matthew for a while, knowing his brother would probably figure something out and jump to conclusions. Because Alfred wasn't at all interested in Arthur that way. Nope. This was just curiosity, nothing more. Arthur was a jerk with a pretty face and that was it.

Alfred sighed, shutting down his computer. Yeah, and maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd start to believe it.

* * *

_Yeah, I had too much fun with this chapter. Anyone here play horror video games? Trust me, they're terrifying. I remember thinking "Bah, Amnesia can't be as scary as everyone says. Here, let's see what it's like…" and ten minutes later, I was reduced to a cowering puddle of fear in front of my computer. And some of the indie games are so… yeah. I've had nightmares. But then again, I'm just a chicken. _

_Now that my little rant about how I nearly piss myself with terror sometimes is over, thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you thought, and point out anything that I've messed up. I sadly have no beta, so everything I do is self-edited. And I miss errors I've made, much to my embarrassment._


	3. Getting Better

_Hello again, everyone! Thank you so much for the awesome feedback on the last chapter. And to those of you who have asked, this will be both UsUk and UkUs. I don't have a particular preference, so… yeah._

_Read on, everybody!_

* * *

It was only a few days after the night Alfred and Arthur had gone on their not-date, and the past few days had really not helped Alfred's mental debate over whether or not Arthur was gay. He was still completely clueless, and didn't really know how to dig himself out of that hole. But he knew for a fact that he was going to find out one way or another.

He was busy helping out a woman whose office was a few doors down from Arthur's (not the excessive perfume lady, thank god), and she was merrily chatting away while he worked. That would've been fine, only her voice was extremely chirpy and she kept giggling. It was starting to get on Alfred's nerves. But instead of glaring at her, he just looked towards the doorway, hoping someone would walk by and save him. Normally he didn't mind women flirting with him, but when they started talking in a ditzy, barbie-doll kind of way, it just got super irritating. Just then, someone walked past, casting a glance into the room. It was Arthur. Alfred felt like mouthing 'help me!' but decided against it, instead just trying to look bored.

The Englishman furrowed his eyebrows, then stopped in the doorway, peeking in and speaking to the woman. "Sharon, is that report finished yet?"

"Almost! I'm just having some computer troubles, but it'll be done in no time!"

"I certainly hope so, because I'm going to need that finished before the meeting tomorrow morning. Maybe, instead of flirting with the I.T. personnel, you can go over your paperwork to make sure you've got everything on that report? I'm sure he doesn't need any distractions while he works."

She turned scarlet, and Alfred suppressed a smirk as much as he could. Man, that was mean… but at least it shut her up. Now he could work in peace. He smiled at Arthur, mouthing 'thank you!' and the Englishman nodded before turning away.

He spoke over his shoulder to the woman. "By the way, the new budget plan looks excellent. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you." She looked after Arthur a little suspiciously, and as soon as he was gone, she muttered, "Well, that's weird. He's usually not that snippy."

Alfred just shrugged. He would have to thank Arthur for that later… maybe during their lesson tonight, if he could remember to.

…

That particular evening, Alfred was a little more tired than usual, and he was sure it showed. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was, when he got tired (or had a little too much to drink, but that was completely beside the point), he sometimes got a little bit cuddly. That and his mind wandered a lot more than usual. He was drifting off a little as Arthur clicked away on his computer, absent-mindedly staring at him and wondering what the Englishman would do if he just buried his head into Arthur's neck and fell asleep, whether or not he would really mind. Hey, he always smelled really good, at least…

Alfred blinked himself awake. "Damn, I need caffeine."

"Is that your vice?"

"Huh?"

"Your vice. Your addiction. I'm a little more dependent on caffeine than I'd like to be as well."

"Oh. Yeah." Alfred yawned, and Arthur smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"You look more like you need a nap than anything else."

"Probably." Alfred felt his phone buzz in his pocket, so he checked it, a little surprised when he saw his brother's number. He wasn't expecting Matt to call, since his brother was usually pretty busy around this time, so he answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Alfred Jones?"

It was a woman, which immediately caught Alfred's attention. That definitely wasn't normal. "Yes, it is. Can I help you?"

"Well, I'm afraid your brother, Matthew Williams, has been in a car accident, and he asked me to call you for-"

"What?!" Alfred stood up from his chair. "Mattie's hurt? What happened?"

"Well yes, he's hurt. But it's nothing too serious. I'm one of the paramedics on the scene, and-"

"Oh my god. Where are you guys taking him?"

"The nearest hospital. UW Medical Center."

"I'll be there right away." Alfred hung up, shoving his phone in his pocket. "Sorry, but I've really gotta run. My brother just got in a car wreck."

Arthur grimaced. "That can't be good. Go."

Alfred nodded, then noticed his hands were shaking. "Well, shit. I can't drive like this. I'll have to call a cab."

"I'll drive you." Alfred looked over at Arthur, a little surprised, and the Englishman cleared his throat. "I mean, if you'd like me to."

"Yeah, that'd… that'd be great."

…

Arthur's car was smaller than Alfred expected, but it lacked the assortment of empty water bottles on the floor. He stared out the window the whole way, biting his nails nervously. He was going to be _so_ pissed if Matt had gotten badly hurt. When they got to the hospital, Alfred was directed to Matthew's room right away, and was relieved that it wasn't in the ICU or anything. So he calmed himself down until he got to the room, where he burst in without knocking, still a bit too stressed and worried to care about that.

He saw Matthew lying on the bed, and he called out, "Matt!"

"I'm here, Al. I'm okay, really."

"Dude, I was so worried you have no idea why the _hell_ did some lady call from your phone, and why the _fuck_ do you have a neck brace?"

"I'm a little concussed, that's all. And I have a broken leg, but-"

"Matt, that is _not_ answering my questions! God, if you broke your neck, I'm fucking gonna kill you!"

"I didn't. This is just routine for people with head injuries. Calm down, Al." Matthew rolled his eyes. "Pull up a chair. I'll explain-"

"I'm not done venting, Matt. Give me a minute. Besides, I kind of have to tell you something." Alfred looked over his shoulder, and seeing Arthur in the doorway, "That's Arthur, by the way. He's a colleague, and he drove me here because I was _freaking the fuck out!_ I thought you were dying or something!"

"Well, I'm not."

"Yeah, _now_ I know that. Jeez. Anyways, I have a sort of confession to make, something I really need to apologize for in case you seize up and die on me during the night or something. Which you'd better not do, 'cuz I'm gonna be really pissed if you do."

"Okay…" Matthew furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm listening."

Alfred cleared his throat. "So, uh… you remember when we were nineteen and drove to Canada for spring break? And we were at that hotel in Vancouver and you went to the front desk to get extra towels?"

"Yes, I remember… where are you going with this?"

"Well…" Alfred dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. "You remember how you came back to your boyfriend making out with me, and he said he thought I was you and I said I was drunk?"

"I remember." Matthew made a face, obviously still not happy about that. Oh, man. This was about to get really awkward.

"Well, he wasn't lying, he really thought I was you. But I was totally sober."

Matthew's jaw dropped and he sat up straighter in the hospital bed, glaring at Alfred. "Oh, no you didn't. I'm gonna kill you, Al!"

A nurse peeked into the room. "Mr. Williams, please sit still. You're concussed."

"Oh, fuck off and let me beat up my brother. I'm not _that _concussed. Dammit Al, you don't go around pulling shit like that! That is _not_ okay!" His voice was raised, and Alfred could tell Matt was trying to yell at him, but it was still only a bit louder than Alfred's normal speaking volume.

"I know, which is why I'm telling you! I'm trying to apologize! I'm sorry, okay? I was young and stupid-"

"You're _still_ young and stupid, you absolute _dickwad!_ Now come over here where I can punch you, you son of a bitch. Oh, if only I had my hockey stick…"

"Mattie, chill out. I'm _sorry_. Really. That was a few years ago, and I've had plenty of time to wallow in shame about it."

"Fine." Matthew crossed his arms and glared. Man, his glare was rivaling one of Arthur's right then. "But you're still going to pay for this one way or another."

"Yeah, I know. And I really mean it, I'm sorry."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "I forgive you. Sort of. But… shit, Al. Whatever happened to your 'bros before man hos' that you constantly drill me with?"

"It was _once_, Mattie. I swear."

"Good. And you'd better not be lying about that."

"I'm not."

"Fine." Matthew winced. "Okay, I'm done yelling. My pain meds have now worn off."

"Want me to call the nurse?"

"If she'll give me something for this, then yes. Apparently they're keeping me here overnight, just in case."

Alfred smirked, pressing the call button to get a nurse in the room. "How's the other guy?"

"Oh, he's fine. He was driving a semi truck, and I definitely got the short end of the stick. I was just driving down the road like normal when this _dick_ runs a red light and smashes into me. So… my car's totaled, but it's not my fault. But it's going to be in the shop for a while. The weird thing is, the back of his truck popped open somehow, and we ended up with literally a ton of powdered donuts all over the road! It looked like snow, almost. I had a good laugh about it while they were getting me into the ambulance. I think it was the adrenaline or something, because I was kind of hysterical and laughing too hard to call you. That's why I had one of the paramedics do it for me."

Alfred sighed and shook his head. "Well, at least you were giddy and it didn't hurt too much. How bad's the break, anyways?"

"Not too bad, actually. Just a normal simple fracture apparently, didn't break the skin or anything. By the way, steering wheels are fucking _rocks_ when your leg hits them at about forty-five miles an hour. But at least I got to experience airbags after whacking my head hard enough against the headrest to knock my brain around a bit."

Alfred smirked. "So instead of an arrow, you took a steering wheel to the knee?

Matthew scrunched up his nose and shook his head. "Don't go there, Al. And it wasn't even my knee, it's my femur."

"Close enough, dude. Knee bone, thigh bone… it's all the same. So, was Yao telling the truth about airbags?" he asked.

Matthew smiled at the reference to an inside joke between their group of friends in high school. "Well, they certainly don't feel like any breasts I've felt. Of course, you don't really have much experience with boobs, eh?"

"Hey, you'd be surprised! A lot of my friends tell me to feel their boobs."

"Friends who are girls?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "No, Matt. My guy friends come up and say, 'hey, do my tits feel weird today?' all the time."

"Well, I wouldn't put that past Kiku." They both laughed, knowing that the Japanese man would probably freak out if someone so much as _suggested_ touching his chest. Him and his weird rules about no physical contact.

Alfred patted Matthew on the arm. "I'm glad you're okay, dude. You won't miss anything important at school if you have to stay here tomorrow, right?"

"I hope not. But if I do miss class tomorrow, I'll just go to my profs' office hours. That and I've got a T.A. who really likes me, so…"

"Ooh, playa!" Alfred winked, and Matthew blushed.

"Well, it's not really-"

"C'mon, Matt. You've got your 'this guy is totally hot' smile on your face. Even if he's a grad student, and we've always said to stay away from grad students... oh, wait. You're a grad student now too. Never mind. Well, go for it!"

"But we're not-"

"Whatever. Ask him out, bro. I can tell you want to. Take him out as thanks for helping you out a lot. You're good at that kind of thing. Who knows, maybe he'll find your cast sexy!"

"I really doubt that." Matthew shook his head, and a nurse came into the room. She gave him some pain medication, and Matthew smiled. "That'll be better. Oh, and you'll be the first to sign my cast, I promise."

"Awesome. Get a purple one if you can!"

"I'll see if I can." Matthew waved at Arthur, who was just standing there with a bemused smile on his face. "Hi, by the way. I'm Matthew, if you haven't already guessed."

"I figured as much. Nice to meet you, Alfred has told me quite a bit about you already." Arthur came over to shake Matthew's hand.

"Doesn't surprise me. Thanks for driving him here. We don't need both of us getting in wrecks in one night, that's for sure."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Mom and Dad would _kill _us for that."

Arthur smiled. "Oh, it was nothing. Alfred and I have been working together quite a bit lately, so…"

Matthew's pain meds were apparently kicking in, and his eyes fogged over a little. He blinked several times before asking, "Oh, so _you're_ the dick?"

"Excuse me?"

Alfred put a hand over his eyes. Of course, Matt had to bring that up… damn him. "No, Matt. That's someone else."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Ohh… sorry. Al was really bitching about this one guy a few weeks back, so…"

"Mattie, go to sleep. You're acting all woozy."

"I guess I am. I feel like I did after we got our wisdom teeth out… remember that?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. Let's not talk about that, okay?"

"Okay, Al. I'll text you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. You do that. I'll tell Mom and Dad that you're okay."

"Thanks. Get the light on your way out, will you?"

"Course, Matt. See ya later, man."

"Love you, Al."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too." Alfred patted his brother on the shoulder. "And take your glasses off before you go to sleep."

"Okay, I will. Bye."

"Bye, Matt. Sweet dreams."

…

When they were back in Arthur's car, Alfred expected either an awkward silence or some really awkward questions, so he was pretty surprised when Arthur just asked, "Is there a reason you and your brother have different last names?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. You see, our parents had one of those weird hyphenated last names, and they decided to split it evenly between us, since we're twins and all. And since 'Alfred Williams' and 'Matthew Jones' sounded kind of dumb, Matt got his last name and I got mine. It was _so_ confusing for teachers, especially if we decided to be annoying and pretend they mixed our last names up… that was mostly my idea, though."

"That makes sense, I suppose. And I noticed he has a bit of an accent?"

"Yeah, he's done this summer exchange thing with a humanitarian group since we were in middle school. He volunteers on a reservation in British Columbia from May to September, doing whatever needs doing. An Indian reservation, I mean."

"Since middle school?"

"Well, he used to just help run a free daycare service, but when he got old enough they put him to work, building houses and stuff. And he teaches part-time at the daycare still, like basic English and math ad stuff. Like I said, he's the good kid."

Arthur shrugged. "I know someone like that. He's an old friend, and he volunteers as a chef in a soup kitchen every week. There are some good people out there, even if some of them aren't exactly the type of people you'd expect to be spending their time volunteering."

"Yeah. Mattie's a living saint, and everyone knows it."

Arthur nodded, then smirked. "Although he's obviously not opposed to swearing."

"Oh, that only happens when he gets _really_ pissed or he hurts himself. Even then, he can't yell. That's as loud as he can get, and I'm not kidding. Mom used to say I inherited all the loud genes and he got the quiet genes."

"At least she didn't have two noisy children. My mother had four of us, and we were all right little bastards." Arthur shook his head. "I remember one time in particular when two of my brothers were yelling and banging on pots in the kitchen, she finally snapped and threw all of us outside, saying to go find a well to fall down so she could get some peace. She's a patient woman, but when her temper gets going…"

"Well, I can't blame her. Four kids would be enough to drive anyone nuts."

"True, true. And I couldn't help but overhear you say the name 'Kiku,' and I'm sure it's a complete coincidence, but do you know someone by the name 'Kiku Honda'?"

"Yeah, actually. He's one of my best friends. Kinda shy and awkward sometimes, but he's a geek too, so we get along great. He's in a book club too, by the way."

"I know. He's in my book club."

"Oh, really? That's cool." Alfred was going to pretend he had no idea about any of this. "I know he said the guy who runs it is British, but there are probably lots of British guys in Seattle, so I didn't guess it was you."

"Well, that's interesting. I had no idea you were friends with Kiku."

Alfred, of course, knew that this wasn't completely true, but he wasn't going to mention that. Better to keep things not at all awkward. He grinned, feeling a little better, but he was still wondering if Arthur was going to bring up what he probably overheard him telling Matt. That was totally embarrassing and not at all how Alfred had hoped to come out to Arthur. Hell, he hadn't even been planning to come out to him. But Arthur didn't bring it up until they were almost back at the office, and even then it wasn't what Alfred was expecting.

"Are both you and Matthew gay, then?" Arthur didn't even raise an eyebrow, asking as though he was asking what time it was.

"Uh… well, he's a little bit bi, like he prefers guys to chicks, but... yeah, pretty much."

Arthur just shrugged. "I'm the odd one out in my family."

"What, all your brothers are gay?"

"No, not at all. I'm the only one who _isn't_ as straight as an arrow."

"Oh."

Well, that was totally great and not at all what Alfred was expecting. Arthur just smiled at him, and suddenly he didn't know what to do with his hands or where to look. Man, he could be so awkward sometimes… not even Matt was this bad, and he was a total stuttering mess some of the time!

Thankfully, Arthur soon pulled into the parking lot of the office. "Well, I must say, there's no real point in trying to get a lesson in tonight."

"I'd have to agree with you." Alfred went to open his car door. "So… I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have a good night." Arthur smiled casually, and Alfred kind of froze up for a second.

He mumbled out some version of 'good night' and walked over to his car, waiting until Arthur had driven away to sigh and whack his head against the steering wheel. "Goddammit. And _ow._" Matt was right, steering wheels really were rocks. That hurt like a motherfucker. Alfred shook his head, starting up the car. Normally when he found out someone he was remotely attracted to was also gay, he could be super smooth, play up the charm, and all that. But whatever the hell just happened was by far the most awkward experience _ever. _What the fuck was wrong with him?

Alfred planned to just go home to his apartment and crawl into his bed and hide in shame, but when he got home he checked his phone and saw a bunch of messages from his parents. So he had to call them and reassure them that Matthew was fine, that he wasn't going to die, all that. When his mom was no longer panicking, he collapsed on his bed. "Gaaaaaahhhh… fuck me. Or kill me. Maybe both. At the same time. Fuck yeah."

He put a pillow over his head and laughed into the mattress. Okay, maybe he was just having a bad night. He had gotten all stressed out because of Matt, that's why he was being a dork. Tomorrow he'd clean up nice and go into work all charming and sexy and shit, and see how Arthur would react. Now _that_ sounded like a good game plan. Well, at least now he could stop pretending he wasn't interested in Arthur that way.

…

Alfred's plan didn't quite work out like he hoped it would, since he forgot to set his alarm clock. He woke up half an hour late, yelled, "Shit!" and hopped in the shower. He didn't have time for breakfast or drying his hair, and he ended up running into the office with his tie undone and a cup of coffee in his hand, a nice shaving cut on his chin. At least by the time Arthur paged him, he had managed to clean his glasses, fix his hair a little, and put a bandage on his cut.

He smiled at Arthur as he entered his office. "Good morning!"

"Good morning." Arthur eyed his band-aid, and Alfred shrugged.

"My hand slipped while I was shaving."

"Ah. That's always a pain."

"Yeah, especially when the mirror ends up looking like a prop from a horror movie." Alfred shook his head. "I did _not_ like cleaning that up. Anyways, what's up with your computer?"

"The charger cord is malfunctioning. I checked already, it's plugged in all the way, and I've tried removing it and plugging it back in. The computer just won't recognize it."

"Well, at least you tried. Let me run and get you a working cord. We keep extras down in the storage room in case something like this happens." When he came back, he took Arthur's charger and sighed. "Time to chuck this in the pile of broken stuff."

Arthur tilted his head. "Aren't you allowed to take broken appliances home to tinker with?"

"Sometimes, it depends on if they can be fixed or not. If they're beyond all hope, we get to take 'em, use the spare parts and that sort of thing. It's always fun to mess around with electronic stuff, anyways. How'd you know that?"

"Gilbert apparently made a remote that can set his alarm clock from across the house."

"Hah, that's nothing. In high school, mostly since I was too lazy to get out of bed in the morning, I made myself an alarm clock that I had to press a bunch of buttons in a particular order to get it to shut up. It took me at least a couple minutes, and actually made me get up. I still have it somewhere in the apartment, but I don't use it much. No, now I just forget to set my regular alarm clock." He sighed.

"Is that why you cut yourself?" Arthur smiled knowingly, and Alfred rolled his eyes.

"You caught me. I was running super late this morning… oh well." He sighed. "At least there weren't any disasters. Well, apart from the shaving incident."

"Disasters?"

"I woke up once to a puddle of melted ice cream and popsicles because I didn't close the freezer properly. Now _that_ was a mess. After that, I made myself a device that beeps if I leave the freezer open for over three minutes."

"I could use one of those."

"Hey, I can make you one if you like. They're super simple."

Arthur smiled. "I'd really appreciate that. Oh, by the way, how's your brother?"

"He's fine. I remembered to text him when I got up. About the only thing I remembered to do… anyways, Matt got his cast this morning. They let him outta the hospital too, and now he gets to hobble around on crutches and beg for people to hold doors for him. Poor guy."

"Well, I suppose him being able to leave the hospital is a good thing."

"Yep. Well, I'd better let you get back to work. Should we do last night's lesson tonight, or…?"

"Yes, that's fine. Although I don't have any dinner on me… shall I run out at lunch and pick us up something to eat?"

"If you don't mind, then yeah."

"It's nothing. You like Italian, yes?"

"Yep!"

"Excellent. Well, I'll see you tonight. That is, if I don't have any more trouble with this thing." He drummed his fingers on his laptop, and Alfred smiled.

"Sounds like a plan. Don't hesitate to page me, though."

"Don't worry. I'll call if I need you." Arthur smiled and waved.

Alfred closed the door behind him as he left, and he grinned to himself. Well, it looked like he didn't even need to lay on the charm with Arthur. That was definitely the most casual conversation they had ever had, especially considering the events of the previous evening. Alfred felt pretty good about himself. That and he could've_ sworn_ that Arthur was sort-of-almost flirting with him. And boy, for a guy who had been such a _total_ dickhead only about a month ago, he was really turning out to be pretty… well, pretty nice. And pretty damn hard to figure out. Alfred, being a naturally curious person, _definitely_ wanted to spend some time figuring Arthur out… okay, so maybe that sounded just a little bit dirty. Still, Alfred was actually kind of looking forward to the lesson, a bit interested for what the night would bring.

…

When he went up to Arthur's office that evening, he really had no idea of what to expect. What he found wasn't all that different from the usual, just Arthur behind the desk. But there were two take-away containers of food instead of Arthur's typical homemade fare in tupperware containers of various shapes and sizes.

Arthur spun around in his chair when Alfred walked into his office. "Good evening."

"Hiya. So, do you want to eat first or while we work?"

"I have a nagging feeling I'll spill on my laptop if I try to eat and use it at the same time, so let's just play it safe."

"Okay! Sounds good to me."

"Excellent." Arthur stood up. "We should probably heat these up. Which do you prefer, ravioli or lasagna?"

"What kind of ravioli?"

"Beef."

"Okay, I'll take the ravioli."

"Right. Here you go." Arthur passed the container to him, and they went to heat them up.

They ate in the break room, chatting lightly while Alfred tried to find a way to make eating ravioli at least vaguely attractive. Which was really more difficult than it sounds. And when he managed to get his tie in the pasta, he gave up on that in favor of swearing under his breath and washing off the tomato sauce in the sink. Arthur laughed softly, and Alfred was sort of secretly glad he had accidentally wore the pants that actually made his ass look decent. Maybe waking up late and just grabbing a clean pair of pants wasn't so bad after all…

But really, he hadn't done the whole flirting thing in so long that he had kind of forgotten how, so he decided to just be himself. And that seemed to work, since as the evening went on, he definitely saw more than just a flicker of interest in Arthur's eyes. Nothing like mutual attraction to boost self-confidence! At the end of the night, he was putting on his jacket and shoving his still-damp tie in one of the pockets when Arthur, who was also putting on his coat, cleared his throat quietly. "You know, I really do appreciate you helping me out with all of this."

"Hey, it's my pleasure. Besides, you've gotten loads better in a short amount of time. It makes me feel better about my crappy teaching skills."

Arthur smiled. "I'll be the first to admit it, you're the most competent computer teacher I've ever had. And I've had quite a few, unfortunately."

"Thanks." Alfred could feel his cheeks get a little warm. Jeez, compliments never normally made him this bashful… he really was turning into Matthew. That or he liked Arthur more than he thought he did. He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. "So, uh… we're pretty much done with these lessons. I mean, we should have another just to make sure you've got everything down-pat, but…"

"I see." Arthur nodded. "I have to say, at first I couldn't wait for the day when this would be over, but now…" he trailed off, and Alfred smiled.

"Yeah. Same here. So… I'll see you later, I guess."

"Indeed." Arthur fiddled with a button on his coat, and Alfred zipped up his jacket, about to turn around and leave when Arthur cleared his throat. "Ah, er… I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come to my book club sometime? I know you're not much of a reader, but…"

Alfred turned back around. Man, Arthur must've felt just as awkward about this whole thing as he did. "I'd like that. Who knows, maybe you can teach me to actually like books."

"I certainly hope so." Arthur buttoned up his jacket all the way. "I'll give you all the details later. It'll be at my place this month, and we'll be voting on a new book to read."

"Awesome. I'll be there." If this was Arthur's way of saying 'I want to see you outside of work,' then Alfred was definitely game to go along with it. He remembered just then how to flash one of his trademark dazzling smiles (thank you, years of braces), and winked at Arthur. "See ya 'round, Artie."

Arthur nodded, smiling as well, albeit a little more reserved. "I'll see you around as well."

Alfred left, feeling a little bit better about himself. Now, where the hell that little nickname came from, he had no clue. That had just sort of popped out. But at least Arthur didn't seem to mind, and at least Alfred didn't feel like he was behaving like his brother anymore. When he got home, he clomped up the stairs a little noisily, smiling at his elderly neighbor who glared at him. She could deal with him being happy. When he let himself into his place, he kicked off his shoes and grinned at nothing in particular. Yep, deciding to be nice to Arthur was definitely the best thing he had done in a long time.

Now, if only he knew a thing or two about books…

* * *

_Ah, the awkwardness! I couldn't help myself. Sorry. Or am I? Nah, I'm not._

_Anyways, thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Oh yeah, and if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please, please, please point them out to me! _

_So yeah, thanks for reading!_


	4. Paperback Writer

_And I'm back, everyone! Yeah, updates have been actually kind of regular for a little while… let's see how long I can keep this streak up for, eh? So yeah, thanks for all the feedback and suggestions! I really appreciate it, believe me. Book club is up ahead, and lots more. _

_Read on, my friends, read on!_

* * *

The monthly I.T. staff meeting was about a week or so after Arthur's invitation for Alfred to join the book club. In the only conference room on the fifth floor, they went over the reports of what people were having trouble with, any computer parts they needed to order pretty soon, what the _hell_ happened the previous week when all the computers went down, all of that. When Gilbert smirked and asked for the monthly report on Arthur Kirkland (which was an actual thing, believe it or not), Alfred got to be a little proud of himself. "He's buzzed an average of three times a week this month, and less than one-fifth of those are things he shouldn't really need help with."

"You're kidding."

"Nope!"

Gilbert looked thoroughly impressed. "Al, we underestimated you big time on this one. That's really something else."

Alfred shrugged. "I'm just doin' my job, yanno." He got a couple pats on the back and punches on the arm from his coworkers at the end of the meeting, and being a good person (well, most of the time), he decided to stay after to help Gilbert tidy up. The German grinned and gave him a high-five.

"Way to go, man."

"Hey, it's no prob. Really."

"No, this is going above and beyond. When you first got here, he was at least five buzzes each _day_, and now you've got him down to three a week? That's nothing short of a miracle, bro."

"Like I said, it's nothing."

"Bah!" Gilbert shook his head. "If you say so. Now, don't tell anyone I said this, but when we give bonuses and promotions at the end of the year, you're gonna end up with a nice position, especially if you keep up the awesome work. Everyone loves you, dude."

"I'm just being myself, really."

"Then keep being you." Gilbert pointed to a piece of paper on the table. "Grab that for me, will ya? I should probably keep an eye on that."

"Sure thing." Alfred passed it to him. "You going to book club next week?"

"What? Who told you I'm in a book club?"

"Arthur. The other day he invited me to join you guys."

"Oh, okay. Phew, my reputation isn't in danger! And that's awesome, by the way." Gilbert grinned. "We're adding another cool guy to the group. I mean, everyone's really different, and we have some interesting nights… especially if Lovi sits by Toni or Ludwig by accident… ah, you'll see. It's not your normal book club though, trust me."

"I'll take your word for it. So, is there any kind of expectation? Like, do I bring food?"

"If you want, yeah. Food or drinks. I bring beer, the Vargas brothers bring pasta, Francis brings dessert since he's French and makes fancy stuff… bring some soda or something. Real American soda!"

"Okay, sounds like a plan."

"It'll be more fun than you think."

"That's what Kiku was telling me." Alfred shrugged.

Gilbert stared at him for a second. "No, you know Kiku?"

"Since high school."

"Dude, that's awesome! We meet up for gaming sessions and stuff sometimes, so-"

"Wait, you're a gamer?"

"_Ja,_ of course! You too?"

"Duh!" They high-fived, raving about various video games until Alfred's buzzer went off. Eight beeps. "Yikes. Top floor."

"Go for it, dude!"

Alfred was surprised at just how much _fun_ he was having at work, whether he was just hanging with his colleagues, chatting with the people he helped out, and subtly (well, as subtly as he could) flirting with Arthur.

…

He met up with his brother for dinner after work, and at Matthew's request they went to a local diner where he could get pancakes to eat. Of course. Halfway through dinner, Matthew pointed out that Alfred was smiling a lot. "Why are you so happy? And I don't mean that in a bad way, by the way."

"I dunno, dude. Things are just looking up, yanno? It's nice."

"Let me guess… you're really crushing on that Arthur guy, and you found out he's gay, so you're happy about that."

"Whoa. How'd you guess that?"

"A few things tipped me off. One, there aren't any straight guys who wear sweaters like that, even if they are European. I go to school with guys from all around the world, so I would know. Two, he was eyeing your ass half the time you were talking to me, and I could tell you obviously had no idea. Three, when he heard you mention making out with my boyfriend, his eyebrows shot up his forehead and then he smiled. Not a devious smile, more like a 'oh, hell yes' kind of smile. And I know you're crushing on him because you're smiling like some new game you've been waiting months for is finally coming out soon."

"Well, fuck me. I couldn't tell he was gay for weeks."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Isn't that just because you're oblivious half the time?"

"Shaddup. I was actually only trying to figure him out for about a week, though."

"And you still failed. Well, at least now you know. And how's that working out for you?" Matthew took a bite of his pancakes, and Alfred narrowed his eyes.

"Whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"Well, we're both totally awkward about it. I mean, like I don't know what I'm doing half the time, then I remember how to flirt and it's okay. But it still feels weird. And sure, just a couple weeks ago I would've happily thrown him out a window and now we're like, flirting, so that's part of it. But seriously, it's like I've turned into you or something." Matthew gave him an unimpressed look, which he decided to ignore. "Anyways… he asked me on a sort of date."

"A sort of date?"

"He hosts a book club, and he invited me to join. In a very 'I want to ask you out but I don't know how' kind of way." Matthew snorted into his pancakes, and Alfred rolled his eyes. "Cut it out."

"I'm sorry, but… _you,_ of all people, joining a book club? The guy who refused to read anything in high school English class, even the short stories?"

"I said cut it out."

"And dating the _host_ of a book club? I'm seriously having a hard time believing this."

"Shut up, Matt."

"But you said-"

"Shut it, dickhead. My boss goes there too, and so does Kiku. So it's not like normal book clubs and stuff."

"A multi-national book club, eh?"

"I guess so. And Gilbert, my boss, brings beer, so it might be okay after all."

"For your sake, I hope so. Just remember to be polite, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So, how's your grad student guy?"

"He's nice. He signed my cast." Matthew patted his leg and smiled. "We're going out for drinks Saturday night. Friday night he has-" Matthew cut himself off and tilted his head to one side. "Hang on a minute… he said he has book club. Um… this Gilbert guy, he wouldn't happen to be German and kind of semi-albino would he?"

"Yeah, he is. He's pretty cool."

"Well, that's sort of… um, he hasn't mentioned a Francis, has he?"

"He said something about a guy named Francis who makes desserts, yeah."

Matthew put a hand over his mouth. "Oh my god. That's my grad student. I mean, he's not mine, but…"

Alfred shrugged. "So, everyone we know just so happens to be in this book club. That's seriously pretty weird."

"Yeah. And so Arthur must be the Arthur that Francis is constantly ragging on... they're good friends but they hate each other."

"They're like, best frenemies or something?"

"I guess. But really, how does everyone around here know everyone else? In a city of this size, you'd think they wouldn't."

"I dunno. Weirdo foreigners. They must have 'no Americans allowed' parties or something."

Matthew shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll have another thing to talk to Francis about on Saturday, eh?"

"And what's that?"

"You and your attempts to get into Arthur's pants."

"Hey, it's not just that."

"Oh?"

"Nope. I'm not looking for just a one-night thing with him, dude."

"Really? That's… sort of new. At least, for you it is."

"Oh, shut up." Alfred rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. It's good, I think. Maybe you're finally growing up and getting ready for an actual relationship." Matthew smiled, taking another bite of his pancakes.

"Whoa, there." Alfred put his hands up. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now. I'm going to his place for book club. That's all."

"And then you're going to stay late and help him clean up. We both know you will. And then you'll find some excuse to talk to him…" Matthew trailed off, smirking at Alfred, who glared at him in return.

"Matt, I swear to god I'm gonna shove the syrup bottle down your throat if you don't shut up."

"Okay, okay. But let me know how things go. In as little detail as possible. There are things I don't need to know."

"Matt?"

"Yes?"

"I don't care if your leg is broken, I _will_ push you down a flight of stairs," Alfred muttered. He then smiled brightly and nodded at the waitress who brought the check to them.

"Fine, fine." Matthew finished his pancakes, and then pointed to his bag, which was beside Alfred. "Pass me my bag, will you?"

Alfred snickered. "Dude, nice man purse."

"It's a _satchel_, and I can't wear jeans with this cast, so I have no pockets."

"What about your hoodie?"

"Stuff falls out of there if I'm not careful, and then I can't really bend over to get it. I learned that the hard way with my keys the other day. I was standing in front of my apartment door for about five minutes trying to find a way to bend down to get them until my neighbour finally came along and saved me. It was pretty sad."

"Oh. Well, that sucks. They should make hoodies with zippers on the pockets. Okay, here's the man purse."

"Don't make me beat you with these crutches, Al."

"You mean if you can catch me, dorkface. All you can do is limp around and fall over." Alfred pulled out his wallet, leaving enough money to cover his part of the bill, and stuck his tongue out at Matthew. "I'm gettin' outta here. You got a ride home?"

"Yep, my car's finally out of the shop."

"Awesome. I'll catch you later, bro."

"I'll see you later. Have fun on Friday!"

"And you have fun on Saturday. But not _too_ much fun, we don't need you breaking anything else." Alfred winked, and Matthew sighed.

"You're lucky you're my brother, because you're an enormous dickhead and I'd never talk to you if we weren't related."

"Aw, my heart is broken." Alfred rolled his eyes at the exact same time that Matthew did, and they both smirked.

Matthew shook his head. "Well, time to go hobble across the parking lot." He got up, putting his share of money on the table and standing on one leg to hug Alfred quickly. "Text or call if you need anything, okay?"

"I should be saying that to you, dude. Take care, all right?"

"I will." Matthew slung his not-purse over his shoulder, getting his car keys handy and picking up his crutches. "And if I fall down, please rescue me."

"Only if you lie there like a turtle that's been flipped on its back!"

"So now I'm a turtle? I thought I was a dorkface."

"Whatever, man."

They left the restaurant at the same time, Alfred holding the door open for his brother (because he wasn't really _that_ mean to him). They waved goodbye across the parking lot, Alfred holding back laughter when Matthew almost fell over. His brother mouthed, "Shut it, dickwad!" and Alfred just shook his head, getting into his car. As he drove away, he realized he'd actually have a chance to make sure this Francis guy wasn't a serious creeper or anything. Yeah, Matt could take care of himself, but Alfred liked to always verify that none of his romantic interests were secretly psycho or had criminal pasts. Ever since the car thief who got arrested _during_ Matthew's second date with her, Al watched out for his brother. And Matt looked out for him. Oh crap, that meant he was now going to ask this Francis dude all sorts of stuff about Arthur… ugh. He'd just have to hope it went well.

…

The next Friday, after work, Alfred went home and made sure he was ready for anything. He set a twelve-pack of pop on the kitchen counter so he wouldn't forget it, changed into something less formal, spent much longer than necessary making sure his hair looked okay, cleaned his glasses, and was unpleasantly reminded of how much he had forgotten about dating. But before he could lament that by bonking his head repeatedly against a wall and calling himself a stupid idiot, mostly in punishment for not getting out more often, he realized he needed to leave if he wanted to be at Arthur's place within the limits of what was considered 'fashionably late'. He ran out the door, cursing himself for being an idiot. Well, at least he got _that_ much done.

When he got to Arthur's (luckily, the Englishman had given Alfred his address a few days earlier, so he actually knew where he was going), he was glad to see that he wasn't going to be the first person there. He grabbed the soda pop out of his car, and seeing that the front door was open, he just kind of walked in, and was immediately greeted by Gilbert.

"Hey, Al! You made it!" Gilbert waved to him from a couch.

"Yep, I did." Alfred noticed a pile of shoes by the door and blanched when he realized his socks didn't quite match. Well, fuck. He kicked his shoes off anyways, thankful that at least his socks didn't have holes in them.

Arthur appeared from somewhere and smiled. "Good evening, Alfred. I hope you didn't have trouble finding the place."

"Nah, it was easy. I've got a buddy who lives around here, so I more or less knew where I was going." He looked around a little. "Nice place, by the way."

"Thank you. Well, help yourself to anything you like. I'll introduce you once everyone gets here." He suddenly glared over Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred looked behind him to see a man with long, blond hair who was in the process of taking off his shoes. He straightened up, pushing his hair out of his face, tossing it over his shoulder with a little flick of the wrist and smirking at Arthur.

"Good evening, Arthur." Well, that accent sounded suspiciously French.

"Hello, frog. A pity _you_ didn't get lost on the way."

"Always so rude."

Alfred suck over to the couch Gilbert was sitting on, dropping the soda on the coffee table. He sat down and, just to be sure, muttered, "Is that the French guy?"

"Yep, sure is. Yo, Francis! What'd you bring us tonight?"

"Oh, nothing too special. Just some éclairs. I had some help making them this time, from a _very_ charming young friend of mine."

"Oho, your little bird?"

"If you want to call it that." Francis set a white pastry box on the coffee table and did a double-take when he saw Alfred. "_Mais, _what is… you're not Matthew, but…?"

"Nope. I'm Alfred."

"Ah, _the_ Alfred. Now I understand. You know, I saw your brother earlier today."

"Oh," Gilbert said, "So the cutie is Al's brother?"

"The _cutie?!_" Alfred was a little miffed, and Francis sighed, putting a hand over his eyes.

"Well, isn't this just beautifully awkward," he muttered, and Alfred took that as a chance to give him a quick once-over. Well, he didn't seem too bad, on a first appearance basis. At least he had matching socks (god fucking dammit!).

He decided to ask, "So, did Mattie help you out today?"

Francis lowered his hand. "Yes, actually. He's a good helper, and he learns quickly. Baking is just a hobby of mine, really, but it's always nice to find someone else who enjoys it."

"I know the feeling. Speaking of hobbies, is Kiku here yet?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Nah, but he'll be here soon. Why?"

"When he gets here, we three seriously _have_ to plan a gaming night."

"That'd be so awesome! Really, Toni and Francis won't play with me anymore since I always beat them, and they suck anyways, so…"

"Hey!"

"Sorry bro, but it's true."

Alfred cleared his throat. "Not to be rude, but… who the hell is Toni?"

Arthur came over just then, accompanied by a tall, tan man with bright green eyes. "Thank you for the tomatoes as always, Antonio."

"_No hay problemo_, Arthur! I have too many for just me to eat, and I can only give Francis so much before he begs me to stop, so…"

Gilbert pointed at him. "That's Toni. Oh, and my brother Ludwig is over there, trying to make sure his shoes don't get buried in the pile of everyone's stuff."

"I've met your brother."

"Really?"

"Yeah. For like, two minutes, but still." Alfred looked around him. "So, is everyone here foreign?"

Arthur smiled. "Essentially. We like to joke that we're the book club version of the U.N., and honestly, you're the first American we've had here."

"Glad I could add to the party!"

Gilbert laughed and passed Alfred a beer. "Drink up, man. You'll need it if this night goes the way most do."

"Meaning…?"

"Francis and Arthur will have a glaring contest and argue about something super trivial, my bro's going to sit around and sigh disapprovingly the whole time, Toni's going to give everyone tons of tomatoes, whether they want them or not, and Kiku will sit there and be awkward."

"Sounds better than my family reunions, at least." Alfred grinned.

…

By the time everyone had arrived, Alfred had already met (and been hugged by, to his surprise) at least half of those who walked through the door. So the introductions were fairly quick, food was passed around, and then Arthur had everyone find somewhere to sit. "All right, now that we've all eaten and met our new member, does anyone have any big announcements to make?" Francis opened his mouth, and Arthur shot him a glare. "Not you, frog."

"Fine. I was just going to say that I won't be here next month."

Antonio raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

"A group of university students, including myself, is going to the Caribbean for a couple months to build houses and the like for the poor."

Alfred realized that Francis was probably another one of those 'good people' like Matthew, and it made him wonder if the fates were trying to guilt trip him into being nicer. Damn karma police. Arthur just shrugged. "We'll miss the desserts. Anyone else?" When no one said anything, he nodded. "Right then, let's get down to business. Last time, we compiled a list of books we might want to read, so I've gone ahead and done a bit of research to see what critics have thought. From there, I've chosen the top four."

He read off the titles from a sheet of paper, and Alfred realized he didn't have a clue what any of them were or what they were about. Uh oh. Since he was still sitting next to Gilbert, he leaned over and whispered, "Which one are you voting for?"

"Either one that sounds like something about meat or the one by that Indian guy."

"Okay…" Alfred really had no idea what he was doing.

"Raise your hand for the two of these you want to read the most. And don't vote more than twice." When they voted, Alfred just kind of put his hand up when Gilbert did, and one of those books actually won. "All right, _Slaughterhouse Five _it is. It's a pretty interesting book, and a little confusing at times, so I'd recommend you read a version that's been translated into your language, unless you're one of the lucky few here whose native language is English."

Alfred grinned, and Gilbert elbowed him in the ribs.

"And everyone, make sure you buy or check it out of a library and have the first four chapters or so read by next month. Trust me, they're long chapters. And don't get _too_ far ahead, now. No spoiling it for the rest of us. And you all know who I'm talking to." Arthur put his paper aside. "Any questions?"

One of the Italians (the friendlier one, whose name was something weird) piped up, "Can we have dessert now?"

Arthur smiled, rolling his eyes. "Of course. Who wants tea?" Several people put their hands up, and Arthur counted them. "And who wants coffee?" A few more hands went up. "Okay, five teas and six coffees."

Alfred got off the couch, snagging some empty beer bottles and following Arthur to the kitchen. "Do you recycle, or…?"

"Yes, the bin's under the sink, on the right-hand side." He opened a cupboard, getting out several teacups, and asked with a smile, "Cleaning up after Gilbert?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I see what you mean, he gets pretty interesting when he's tipsy."

"This is a good night for him, believe it or not. He hasn't tried to take his shirt off. Well, not yet. I shouldn't get ahead of myself. And I couldn't help but overhear earlier that Francis knows your brother?"

"Yeah, I found that out yesterday from Matt. We kind of realized that the Francis he knows is the Francis in this book club."

"And your brother Matthew is the Matthew that Francis won't shut up about?"

"Yep. Do you need any help with these?" He gestured to the array of teacups Arthur had set out, and the Englishman tilted his head a little.

"Actually, yes. If you could help me bring them out to the living room, I'd really appreciate it."

"No problem. Oh, and just out of curiosity, where's your cat?"

"Probably hiding in a bedroom or the laundry room. He doesn't like crowds of people. If you're lucky, once people start clearing out, he'll come out and see if he can find anything to eat."

"I guess I'll wait and see, then."

The rest of the evening consisted of him talking to all the different people and learning stuff about them. Who worked where, who was shy (the Lithuanian guy), who wasn't (the Polish guy, and _boy_ was he flaming!), who got along (Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio) and who didn't (Lovino and Ludwig). It was both confusing and fun, and Alfred was definitely surprised by how many people were actually friendly enough to talk to him about more than just his job. And as Gilbert predicted, Francis and Arthur did get into a bit of an argument… over the appropriate times to wear cuff links, of all things. It was one of the more interesting arguments Alfred had seen in his life, and definitely one of the funniest.

…

When people started going home for the night and there was the inevitable re-sorting of the shoe pile, Alfred saw a cat peek out of a room down the hall and start creeping towards the living room. Arthur tsked and went over to pick him up. "There you are, you little pest. And just were you doing, hmm? Making a mess of your food all over the floor? It wouldn't be the first time, now would it?" The cat gave Arthur a _look_, and Alfred almost laughed at how much it looked like one of Arthur's exasperated glares. Arthur carried the cat over, scratching him behind the ears. "Fine, scrounge all you like. But if you get fat, it won't be my fault."

He set the cat down on the floor and smirked maliciously as the cat immediately walked right up to Francis, who was lounging in an armchair. He sneezed right away, then looked at the cat and sighed, apparently exasperated. "_Putain de merde, _Arthur, you know I'm allergic!"

"But he loves you!"

The cat had crawled into Francis' lap and was purring contentedly while the Frenchman sneezed violently. "_Fils de pute,_ I'm going to throw this cat across the room."

"If you hurt him, I _promise_ you will not live to see the light of day."

Francis rolled his eyes, scooping the cat up and dropping him on the floor, standing up quickly before the cat could climb back up on his lap. "If this infernal creature is being sociable, then I'm out of here. I'll see you all later. And no, Toni, I don't want any more tomatoes." He grabbed his shoes, still sneezing, and waved to Alfred. "It was nice to meet you, Alfred. And Arthur, you are a horrible, evil person."

"Takes one to know one, frogface. I hope you're still sneezing in the morning!"

Francis sighed, then sneezed again and glared at Arthur, muttering something under his breath before leaving. Alfred laughed for a second, and then was surprised when the cat jumped up on the couch beside him. "Whoa. Hello there, kitty."

"His name is Will."

"Short for…?"

"William Shakespeare."

Alfred smiled. "Of course. Is there a reason his ears are kind of floppy like that?"

"It's the breed. Scottish fold."

"Oh, I know those. Some of them look like they're scared all the time, but not him. He's cute." Will decided to park himself in Alfred's lap and start purring, so Alfred scratched him behind the ears. "And friendly."

"You're not allergic?"

"Nope, not at all. Why?"

"He usually only does that to people who sneeze whenever they're around cats." Arthur shrugged. "I don't know why, either."

"Huh. Weird."

Gilbert reached over to pet Will, and the cat seemed to roll his eyes. "Hey, kitty! Usually I'm gone before he sneaks out to eat stuff and beg for attention."

"Speaking of which," Ludwig said, "We should probably get going, especially since I have to drop you off at your place."

"Fine, fine. Spoilsport. See ya later, Al!"

"See you, Gil."

When there were only a couple people left, most of whom were getting tomatoes foisted on them by Antonio, and the cat had _still_ claimed Alfred's lap as its new favorite perch, Alfred decided to be a good person. He scooped the cat up with one arm and cleared away a few more beer bottles with his free hand (how could Gilbert drink like that and not puke? Seriously!).

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't throw the wrong one in the bin, now."

"Don't worry!" Alfred threw out the bottles. "I'm used to being a jungle gym for cats. And puppies. And small children."

"Children?"

"I have a _lot_ of little cousins."

"Ah, I see." Arthur placed the teacups in the dishwasher. "I'm not really in touch with much of my family. Since I left England, it's been rather difficult to stay connected."

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, I know the feeling. I have a lot of high school friends I don't ever see. Kiku's pretty much the only one I hang out with on a regular basis."

The Japanese man was getting his shoes on at that moment in time, and he picked up a plastic bag (presumably full of tomatoes). He waved to everyone. "Well, I'm off. I'll see you later, Alfred, Arthur."

"See ya, Kiku! And remember, next Sunday we're gaming at my house, 'kay?"

"Of course."

Arthur shook his head after Kiku had gone. "I'll admit it, you two don't really seem the type to be good friends."

"Oh, we know. It used to confuse the hell out of teachers, even more when they learned that I wasn't using him to copy off his homework. Hell, _he_ always used to copy off of _my_ English homework." Alfred put the cat down, trying to avoid stepping on him. "Do you want any help cleaning up?"

"Only if you don't mind."

"Hey, I've got an empty apartment to go home to. I'm not exactly dying to leave or anything."

Arthur smiled. "Thank you. It can sometimes be a bit of a hassle cleaning up once everyone leaves… especially if certain people have a little too much to drink." He rolled his eyes, and Alfred laughed softly.

"I know the feeling. It's a mess, cleaning up after parties."

"True, quite true. Could you get that bowl of nuts, please?"

"Sure thing."

When Alfred had helped Arthur clean up a bit, and he was the only one left (damn Matthew for always being right about everything), he got his shoes on, only to laugh when Will sat on his feet, meowed, and demanded to be held. "Man, he's cuddly." Alfred picked him up.

"I know. You'd think I never pay him any attention, the way he acts, but he just ignores me whenever I try to play with him. But god forbid I try to sit down and do a bit of work… he just plops himself right on whatever I'm working on." Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's maddening sometimes."

Alfred smiled. "Hey, at least he's cute."

"That's about the only reason I let him get away with it." Alfred reached out to take Will. "Come here now, poppet." The cat looked at him, then looked away indignantly and swished his tail. Arthur sighed. "Bloody stubborn beast."

"Well, he gets it from his owner." Alfred handed Will to Arthur, bending down and scratching him behind the ears one last time. "I'll see you later, little buddy." He stood up straight, talking to Arthur this time. "And thanks for inviting me. I gotta say, this was a lot more fun than I expected."

"Thank you. And it was nice to have you here." Arthur smiled. "I'll see you at work."

"Yeah." Alfred turned to leave, feeling like he should say something but totally clueless of what to say.

"Er… would you like to go out for dinner sometime?" Arthur just kind of blurted it out, and when Alfred turned around, he blushed.

Alfred was just feeling relieved that at least one of them could figure out what to say. "Yes. Definitely."

Arthur seemed to relax a bit, letting one of his hands rest absent-mindedly on Will's head. "Excellent. So… I could pick you up next Saturday?"

"Sure. I can text you my address or—hang on. You don't have my number, right?"

"I don't think so."

They traded numbers quickly, and Alfred grinned. "Great. Saturday. What time?"

"Say, around seven?"

"Works for me. And don't worry, I'm not picky when it comes to food."

Arthur smiled. "Good to know."

Alfred nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

"Until next time."

Alfred waved over his shoulder as he left, smiling. That had gone surprisingly well. But he was still being so damn awkward, like he didn't know what he was doing.

…

He called up Matthew when he got back home. "Dude, you said you wanted details?"

"No, I said I _didn't_ want details. But that was fast. Francis texted me that he got out of there only about half an hour ago."

"That's because nothing happened."

"What?!"

Alfred could hear the shock in Matthew's voice, even over the phone, and he laughed. "Yep. I helped him clean up, and then his cat kept begging for attention, so-"

"Wait, wait. You stayed late and did dishes and then just _cuddled_ his _cat?_"

"Yeah. So?"

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"Oh, shut it, bro. You should be happy for me!"

"Well yes, but… this isn't like you, Al."

"I know." Alfred kicked off one of his shoes, and then struggled to get out of the other without falling over. "Oof. There we go. Sorry, shoe removal. I dunno what's up either. It's like I'm being careful, I guess."

"Are you worried about messing things up?"

"I dunno, Matt. Really. Oh, and get this: _he _asked _me_ out to dinner next weekend."

"No."

"Yes. He'll be picking me up at seven."

"No."

"Yes."

"Al, I'm not sure if I should be proud or worried right now."

"Me either, dude. I mean, I'm outta college and all that now, so I guess this is kind of normal, and he _is_ older than me, so…"

"How old is he?"

"I dunno… twenty-seven, maybe? How old is Francis?"

"He turned twenty-eight a month ago."

"They look kind of around the same age. And dude, that's too old for you."

"Same to you, Al. We still qualify as twinks in some people's books, remember?"

Alfred shivered. "Dude, don't remind me. I'm past that phase now. I mean, I think I am. Man, I dunno."

"Just wait and see what happens."

"Hey, aren't I always telling you that when you're all insecure and shit?"

"Yep. Looks like we've switched places now, eh?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Dammit Matt, I-"

"Sorry Al, I have to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Hang on just a second, bro! You-" Matthew hung up, and Alfred pulled his phone away from his ear. "Well fuck you, Matt." What the hell was he talking about, anyways? Alfred wasn't being insecure or nervous. Nope, not at all. He just felt like a total dork whenever he tried to be remotely flirty or whatever around Arthur. Okay, maybe he was a little nervous.

Alfred rolled his eyes, sending his brother a text. '_Ur a dick, bro. not cool!'_

He went into his bedroom, tossing his phone on the bedside table and sitting on the bed with a sigh. Why was Matt so freakishly perceptive all the time? It wasn't fair. He flopped back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. At least he had a week to prepare for his date with Arthur. Oh, shit. He was going on a date. He needed to clean up his apartment and stuff just in case anything happened.

Speaking of anything happening… he rolled onto his side, checking a drawer in his bedside table. Man, was he seriously that low on lube? Alfred had to think for a second to remember the last time he got laid, and he winced. It was embarrassingly long ago. Shit, and he probably needed condoms too. Well, either way, he needed to go out and stock up on… stuff. And finish up that mostly empty bottle of lube on his own. At least _that _sounded fun, unlike the rest of his chores. Man, and was he supposed to keep a condom in his wallet just in case, or was that only for high schoolers and college kids? Ugh, fucking details!

* * *

_Yeah, I think I had just a little too much fun with this chapter. That seems to be happening with this story a lot… bah, whatever. Anyways, thanks for reading! As always, I'm open to any suggestions you may have, and please point out any errors you see. So until next time, my friends! Stay tuned._


	5. Come Together

_First things first, thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! It's great to get up in the morning, check my email and see all this awesome feedback from you guys. Also, a big thank-you to everyone who's pointed out grammar and spelling mistakes. I can't catch everything, unfortunately, and it's nice to have some help!_

_So, you'll get a mix of awkward and awesome content in this chapter. And, as a bit of a heads-up, there's some rather mature content ahead, so beware and/or enjoy. _

_And boy, long chapter is long. I seem to be doing this a lot._

* * *

The next week seemed to fly by, with Alfred and Arthur finishing up their last lesson that Thursday night. That was mostly an evening of Alfred testing Arthur on various things he'd have to use his computer for, and how he could fix any problems that arose. Arthur passed with flying colors, and that was the end of that. As usual, when they were just talking about normal stuff, Alfred was totally fine, but as soon as Arthur mentioned Saturday, he got all awkward and shit again. "Yeah, so… uh, yeah. If you don't page me for anything tomorrow, I guess I'll see you Saturday."

"I'm looking forward to it. Er, not the not paging you part, the other part."

"Yeah, me too." Okay, so at least Arthur was stumbling over his words a lot too. That made Alfred feel a little bit better. "So, I guess I'll see you later."

"Have a good night."

"You too!"

God, he could only hope things wouldn't be this awkward Saturday night.

…

Saturday, was definitely one of the more stressful days Alfred had been through in quite some time. His apartment was clean, he was ready for anything (seriously, _anything_), but he had _no frickin' idea_ of how to dress. Dammit, why couldn't Matthew bring his sassy French friend over and help him? Khakis were good for anything, so he had pants, but he ended up going through his closet for a good thirty minutes to find a decent shirt. And changed it three times.

By the time he was actually ready and had given himself a short pep talk in the mirror (c'mon Al, you can do this! It's just a date, people go on dates all the time. Now, don't be an idiot, and everything will go great! Just don't fuck it up, bro), the intercom in his apartment went off. Oh, jeez. Alfred ran over, pressing the button to reply. "I'll be ready in a sec! Come on up, I'll unlock the door."

"All right."

Thank god, it was actually Arthur. If it had been someone who just pressed the wrong button, that would be both totally hilarious and totally weird. Alfred grabbed his coat from the hook beside the door and tossed it on the couch casually, like he had just left it there, and then there was a knock at the door. He opened it and, seeing Arthur there, smiled brightly. "Hi. I'll just grab my stuff and we can go."

"Excellent." Arthur stood in the doorway as Alfred shoved his wallet into his back pocket, and then grabbed his keys and coat.

He locked the door behind him and turned to Arthur. "Ready when you are."

The restaurant they ended up going to was a nice, local Greek place that Alfred had never heard of, and he was happy to see that the prices were well within his range if he paid for himself. Or both of them. It had been so long since he went on an actual date that he didn't know whether or not they were supposed to split the bill. And in order to dispel some of the total lack of confidence he was feeling (which seriously wasn't normal!), Alfred looked around the restaurant a bit. "This is a nice place," he commented. "I seriously wish I'd known about it before, this is super close to the university."

"I only know about it thanks to Kiku. Apparently, he's friends with the owner's son."

"Lucky guy… oh yeah, how'd you meet Kiku, anyways?"

Arthur smiled. "It was pure chance, really. I was in a bookstore, walking around with my face in a book, when I walked literally right into him. He was reading the exact same book, so we talked for a bit about that, and I offered to treat him to tea. He accepted, and we made it a monthly thing to meet up and talk about books. From there, I asked him if he'd like to be part of a book club. We started out quite small, with only five of us."

"And now you've got about four times that, huh?"

"Yes, and it gets more and more difficult to feed everyone. I'm not much of a cook, I'll be the first to admit it."

"Hey, me either. I am the master of ruining vegetables."

Arthur shrugged. "I've learned to tolerate my cooking over the years. Such is the life of a bachelor. And if anything turns out to be truly inedible, I can always just give it to the cat."

Alfred laughed, shaking his head. "He's not fussy?"

"Not usually."

"That's good, I guess. By the way, do you know why cats roll over on their backs if they don't want you to rub their bellies? I mean, dogs love it, but the one time I tried that with a cat, I got mauled by a ten-pound ball of fury."

"I actually don't know why, but Will hates it as well. I tried that once with him, and I believe I still have the scars from it. I learned my lesson. It's strange though, isn't it?"

"Yeah! I mean, sure, I wouldn't want people coming over and rubbing my stomach if I was lying on my back, but…"

Arthur, who was taking a sip of water just then, snorted into his glass, and Alfred grinned. This wasn't going badly after all! Maybe that pep talk had actually worked pretty well.

…

And at the end of the night, they ended up splitting the bill (something Alfred felt a bit proud of, since he could pay for himself!), and then there was just the drive back to Alfred's. When they got back to the apartment building, Arthur walked Alfred to the door. The front door, sadly, not Alfred's door, but it was still nice of him. Alfred looked at the door and back at Arthur. "You know, I had a lot of fun tonight."

"So did I."

They stood there in silence for a moment, until Alfred decided to break it. "I mean, I'll admit it, I was kinda worried you'd be all stuffy and old-world, but... you're not."

Arthur smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Thank you, I think."

Alfred had to smile. "It's a compliment."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really." He barely noticed that he was edging closer to Arthur and that the Englishman was edging closer to him until their noses were almost touching. Oh wow, Arthur had really pretty eyes, especially when he was smiling like that. And Alfred hadn't noticed earlier, but Arthur had a soft dusting of freckles across his nose. And seriously, _really_ gorgeous eyes.

Arthur blinked then, his eyes flicking down for a second and then back up, looking Alfred in the eyes. Alfred licked his lips involuntarily. Arthur tilted his head a little to the side, leaning in close, and Alfred closed the gap, letting his eyes slip shut. Damn, Arthur's lips were soft. He wasn't expecting that. Alfred parted his lips just slightly, deepening the kiss just a little, not even flinching when one of Arthur's hands slid into his hair.

They broke apart for air, if only for a moment, then moved back in, pressing their lips together again, slowly, gently, Alfred cupping Arthur's face in his hands, feeling Arthur's hand move down to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. And Alfred could swear he felt his pants tighten. When they broke apart that time, Arthur sighed. "I wish I didn't have to go," he murmured.

Alfred didn't move back, still holding Arthur's face in his hands. "What if you didn't have to? What if I invited you in?"

Arthur paused, obviously considering it. "I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. I want to, but I shouldn't. God, I want to." He pulled Alfred to him suddenly, kissing him deeply, his tongue working its way into Alfred's mouth, Alfred fighting back until they were positively battling for control. But _damn_, that was good, and Alfred felt his pants tighten a little more.

When Arthur pulled away, Alfred groaned in disappointment, but Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry Al, but I can't. Another time, I promise."

"You'd better keep that promise." Alfred couldn't help himself. He wanted to leave Arthur with something to think about, so he kissed Arthur again, pulling him forward so their hips collided, smirking into the kiss when he heard Arthur gasp a little. He pulled away, pressing a kiss to Arthur's neck before whispering, "Bye."

"Good night," Arthur said a little dazedly, blinking those damn unfairly gorgeous eyes, stepping back a bit.

Alfred slipped into the apartment building, running up the stairs to his apartment and leaning against the door once he closed it behind him. Wow. Fuck, he was still half-hard from that. Arthur could seriously kiss. And if that was any indication of what else he might be good at… Alfred shivered. He didn't want to think about that yet, not unless he felt like just shoving his pants down and jerking off right there. Hell, he wasn't some teenager with no self-control; he could make it to his bedroom.

Yeah, he barely made it.

…

That next week, he decided on Friday that it was his turn to ask Arthur out, so he stopped by the Englishman's office on the way back from a quick job. The door was open, so he peeked in and was a bit surprised to see Arthur with his feet up on his desk, tossing a ball into the air and catching it. He was talking to what seemed like thin air until Alfred noticed he had one of those hands-free earpieces in.

"I'm not saying it's a bad proposal, I'm just saying that there's a much more cost-effective way to go about it. If you just _replace_ some of the faulty machinery instead of calling a repairmen every other day, we'll end up with less time wasted when the plant isn't running, and also less incorrectly-formulated product. It's sure to save money."

He rolled his eyes, and Alfred was about to just sneak past and let him finish his call until he heard Arthur sigh and say, very sarcastically, "Well, I'll be buggered. Maybe you're right. Oh yes, really." There was a pause, and he snapped, "Of course not, you _imbecile!_ Who do you _think_ knows more about running a plant, your workers with years of experience, or you, just a snobby little upstart who has no idea about how anything works? Trust me, your men and I are correct on this one. And take it up with the boss, for all I care, you _know_ he's just going to agree with me. Now have a good day and thank you for wasting my time." He hung up, taking out the earpiece and tossing it away. "Bloody moron."

Deciding this was the perfect time to make an appearance, Alfred poked his head into the room. "You talkin' to me?"

"Oh, heavens no." Arthur smiled at him, and then gestured to his headset. "That was a junior plant manager who thinks he's top dog, and wants me to waste money on his little project ideas."

Alfred smirked. "Lemme guess, he worked his way up through the ranks really fast and now he thinks he's a know-it-all hotshot?"

"Exactly. But sometimes it's more trouble than it's worth, putting him in his place."

"Hey, Gil makes sure to keep us in line, so I get it." Alfred was still just leaning against the doorframe, and he cast a glance over his shoulder. "Well, I should probably let you get back to work. But I have a question."

"I'm listening."

"How'd you like to go out for dinner tonight?"

Arthur smiled, and Alfred could've sworn he blushed a little. "That sounds lovely."

"Cool. I'll pick you up at, I dunno, six-thirty?"

"Works for me."

"M'kay. I'll see you then, unless you need any help."

"See you later."

…

That evening, Alfred felt a whole lot better than he did the night of their first date. He actually didn't stress about his clothes, deciding after only a second to grab a V-neck shirt and throw a jacket over it. Before driving to Arthur's, though, he made sure that his car was mostly clean. No more bottles rolling around.

When he got to the house, he walked up and rang the doorbell, smiling when he saw the cat peer through one of the windows by the side of the door. He waved to Will, not entirely sure why, and then saw Arthur's feet appear by the cat. Well, look at him, he had matching socks.

Arthur opened the door. "Come on in. I just have to make sure this little bugger gets settled for the night."

As soon as Alfred stepped through the doorway, the cat pranced over and started weaving in and out of his legs, purring. Alfred bent over to pat him. "Hey there, Will. Trying to trip me up?"

Arthur scooped him up, rolling his eyes. "Attention-starved, as always. Come on then, my sweet poppet," he cooed, his voice changing entirely, "Let's go to the office. No tearing up any of my papers if you get bored, now, or I will be very disappointed in you, dearest." Arthur plopped the cat on the floor in a nearby room and closed the door some of the way. "Right then," he said, voice dropping the sugar-coated, sweet tone, and he cleared his throat. "Let me get my shoes on."

He slipped on his shoes, and Alfred took that as a chance to look him over quickly, seeing he had changed out of his work clothes, but still had a tweed coat. Ah, the English… he smiled, and as Arthur straightened up, he held out a hand. "Shall we?"

"Of course." Arthur took his hand, and Alfred felt his smile get wider.

…

Over dinner (nothing too fancy, just Indian food), Alfred decided to admit something. "I'm just gonna come out and say this right now. I dunno if you've noticed, but… this whole dating thing, the 'I like this stuff, what stuff do you like?' kind of thing, I'm really bad at it."

Arthur laughed. "I hadn't really noticed, but I have to admit the same. I'm pathetic when it comes to trying to flirt."

"Hey, I wouldn't say pathetic."

"Well, thank you." Arthur shrugged, spearing a potato with his fork. "But just out of curiosity, what kinds of 'stuff' do you like?"

"Oh man, I dunno. Video games, messing around with electronics, lava lamps…"

"Lava lamps?"

"You gotta admit it, they're cool. Oh yeah, and I like movies."

"Any specific genres of film?"

Alfred shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "Well, I'm a total chicken when it comes to horror movies, but I love 'em anyways. Other than that, I like just about any kind of movie. Except chick flicks." When Arthur raised an eyebrow, he sighed. "Okay, most chick flicks."

"Well, you aren't alone there."

"What, you like girl movies?"

Arthur laughed quietly. "Not usually. I meant films in general."

"Anything else?"

"Well, um… books, obviously. And drinking tea, photography… I have various hobbies, I suppose you could say."

"Including babying your cat?"

Arthur flushed a little. "Well that's just… he's a good cat."

"I know, I'm just messin' with ya." Alfred grinned, and Arthur rolled his eyes, smiling.

"I should've known." He looked up at Alfred, who felt his heart speed up just a little bit.

And after dinner, when they were heading back to Alfred's car, he looked down the road just a little and remembered they pretty much right next to that tea shop Matthew had dragged him to that one time. Okay, this was just the perfect coincidence. So he decided, what the hell, he was gonna be a little brave about this. "Hey, before we go, do you wanna grab some tea?"

Arthur followed his line of vision, and upon seeing the tea shop, smiled. "I'd love to."

"Awesome." Once they were in the store and Arthur gave him a look that plainly said 'you were planning this, weren't you?' Alfred rolled his eyes. "I totally forgot this place was here, by the way. I just remembered two minutes ago, seriously."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"No, really!"

After tea, which Alfred decided would be his treat, he sneakily slipped a mint in his mouth while pretending to yawn, just in case. He wanted to be ready for anything. And when he pulled into Arthur's driveway, he put his car into park, wondering if he should just turn it off or not. Arthur's hand landed on his leg, so he turned his head to face Arthur. He had some kind of devious little smile on his face, and he leaned in to kiss Alfred _way_ less innocently than he had on the first date. Alfred kissed back enthusiastically, subconsciously squeezing his legs together when Arthur's hand slid to the inside of his thigh, his thumb rubbing up and down very lightly.

He pushed his tongue into Arthur's mouth, his aggression drawing a surprised groan from Arthur's throat, only for the Englishman's hand to slide further inwards, cupping Alfred through his pants. He drew his head back to breathe and pressed a kiss to Alfred's jaw, and Alfred couldn't stop his hips from bucking forward into Arthur's hand, surprising himself at how he couldn't hold back.

But then Arthur's hand was gone, and his lips were moving against Alfred's jaw as he murmured, "I'll see you later, Al." He kissed Alfred briefly, chastely, as though he totally hadn't been feeling him up just a minute ago.

Alfred, as turned on and impatient as he was, could do little more than just kiss back and murmur, "Yeah. Bye."

Arthur opened the car door and slid out, leaving Alfred sitting there in a mild state of shock. When he got his senses back, he shook his head and drove away, blowing a bubble with his gum. It was then that he realized that he hadn't been chewing gum earlier… but Arthur had. Meaning they had just kissed hard enough for it to end up in Alfred's mouth instead. Oh. Well, that was… surprisingly hot. Alfred bit his lip. Yeah, there was no denying it now, Arthur _really_ turned him on. It was like he knew how to push Alfred's buttons without even trying.

Alfred could only hope that Arthur felt the same way.

…

This pattern continued for a few more dates, them just talking over dinner or coffee or whatever, and then whenever the evening came to an end, Arthur would initiate a fierce make-out session in the car. And one of those nights, Alfred let his hand drop down to squeeze Arthur through his pants, and he found that yeah, Arthur was _just_ as turned on by this. But he never accepted Alfred's invitations to come in, and he never invited Alfred in, always just saying, "Another time, I promise," and Alfred could almost _swear_ it was just so Arthur could hear him groan involuntarily in disappointment.

But Alfred waited, if a little impatiently. He wasn't used to this kind of dating, since he had dated mostly when he was still in college, and most guys put out on the first date. But hey, if this was how mature adults did it, then he was going to go along with it. His patience was bound to pay off eventually.

And _boy, _was he right.

He had just driven Arthur home from a nice evening out, so he pulled into the driveway and waited for Arthur to lean over and kiss him. He was a little surprised when the Englishman undid both of their seatbelts and leaned over him, his eyes _full_ of lust. Arthur took his chin in one hand, pulling his face up for a long, deep kiss.

Alfred rested a hand on Arthur's hip, so tempted to let it slip down just a little further and grip his ass. Because _damn_, did he ever have a great ass. Just then, Arthur pulled away and slid his fingers down Alfred's chest, playing with his tie for a second. He stopped once he reached Alfred's belt and he looked up, staring him right in the eyes. He smirked, fingers dancing teasingly along the buckle, so close to what Alfred was on the verge of begging him to touch.

Arthur leaned forward so his lips were right against Alfred's, and he murmured in a low voice, "Would you like to come inside tonight?"

The double meaning behind his words was definitely not lost on Alfred, and he was suddenly _very _interested. He moved his lips back against Arthur's, half kissing him, half speaking. "I think I'd love to."

Arthur pulled back with a smile, surprising Alfred with how positively _predatory_ he looked. Alfred shut off the car, opening his door and following Arthur up to the house. Arthur unlocked the door slowly and held it open again, smiling in that strange (and totally sexy, btw) way again. They kicked their shoes off in the doorway, Arthur locking the door behind them before they made their way through the house. Alfred wanted so badly to just reach out and pull Arthur to him, or push him up against a wall and kiss him and rut against him.

So when they finally reached Arthur's bedroom, he did just that. He undid Arthur's belt as he kissed him, smirking to himself when his hands ghosted over Arthur's groin and the Englishman's hips jerked forward a little, a quiet little groan slipping past his lips. Arthur pushed him back suddenly, pulling his sweater vest over his head and unbuttoning his shirt, tossing both garments to the floor. And Alfred decided to take advantage of Arthur's now-bare skin, leaning forward and biting his shoulder lightly, latching on for just a moment. When he pulled back and saw the nice, dark hickey he had left, he licked his lips.

He met Arthur's eyes and the Englishman pulled him into a kiss, somehow moving them back to the bed and taking Alfred's tie and shirt off at the same time. When Alfred felt the backs of his knees hit the bed, he sat down. Arthur then pushed him flat on his back and crawled over him, and Alfred had to admit to himself that it was definitely one of the sexiest things he had seen in his entire life. And boy, if he hadn't been unbelievably turned on before that, he certainly was now. His pants were feeling _way_ too tight, almost to the point of pain, and he was just about to reach down and unbutton them when Arthur did that for him. Alfred sighed in relief, then inhaled sharply when Arthur scooted down so he was pretty much face-to-face (so to speak) with Alfred's crotch. Well, wasn't that totally unexpected… and totally awesome.

Arthur tugged on Alfred's pants, so he helped him out by lifting his hips off the bed. And it seemed like just as Arthur got his pants down, he was pulling Alfred's cock from the slit in his boxers, wrapping his hand around it firmly and pumping him gently. Alfred let his head fall back on the bed, trying not to seem as desperate for this as he really was. Arthur didn't hesitate, just opening his mouth and suddenly taking Alfred inside, and the hot, wet feeling had Alfred muffling a moan with one hand. Yeah, it had been a while, but no one he'd been with had ever been _that _good at giving head.

Arthur's eyes were closed as he worked Alfred's cock, his hand gripping the base and his mouth doing unbelievably wonderful things, his tongue running all over the right spots, making Alfred twist a hand into the bedsheets. Sure, Arthur couldn't really deepthroat him, but Alfred knew he was pretty well-hung and he didn't expect that. But damn, that was seriously fucking amazing. And just when he was about to tell Arthur to stop, to pull off if he wanted Alfred to last any longer, Arthur lifted himself up, licking the sheen of precum and spit on the head of Alfred's member. When exactly he had undone his own pants, Alfred wasn't sure, but he was hard as hell, his boxer briefs tented and the tip of his cock just barely peeking out of the slit in them.

Alfred, kind of curious as to just how much he was packing below the belt, pulled Arthur up to kiss him, honestly not giving a crap that he could taste himself in Arthur's mouth. He moved a hand down to run his fingers over Arthur's erection, his mouth twisting into the smallest of smirks when Arthur's hips bucked forward slightly. He pulled back from the kiss, moving his mouth to Arthur's ear to whisper, "C'mon, Art. Show me what you've got."

Arthur groaned softly, and Alfred decided that he wasn't opposed to a little bit of dirty talk… he could definitely use that to his advantage. He pulled Arthur's pants and boxer briefs down, a little bit surprised by two things. One, he was _way_ bigger than Alfred would've expected, and two, he had a small tattoo of a Celtic knot on his right hipbone. Pushing his horniness out of his mind for a second, he traced it with his finger lightly. Arthur's hand landed on top of his, and the Englishman nipped his ear lightly. "Yes," he murmured, "There's a story behind it. I'll tell you later."

Alfred decided that was a good enough answer and moved his hand down, wrapping it around Arthur's cock, his mouth almost watering. God, he wanted that so badly… "I wonder," he began, looking up at Arthur, "Would now be a good time to mention I don't really have a gag reflex?" Arthur's eyes widened, his pupils huge, and his erection pulsed in Alfred's hand. Alfred laughed softly. "I'm gonna guess it's a great time to mention it."

He scooted further back on the bed, grabbing Arthur by the hips and pulling him up so the Englishman's cock was level with his mouth. He just winked before taking Arthur in hand and wrapping his lips around the head. Alfred didn't bother taking it nice and slow, just swallowing Arthur down all at once as far as physically possible, loving the unfiltered moan Arthur let out. He had to admit it, for some reason, sucking Arthur off was really turning him on more and more, especially when Arthur's hands tangled into his hair and he sighed long and low, the sound hitching into a whine as he groaned, "Nnh… oh, _fuck_."

It felt almost unbearable, the way Arthur was moaning and not holding his voice back at all. Alfred was on the verge of reaching down and gripping his cock, just to ease some of the pressure. But then Arthur, being a secret mind-reader, reached around behind himself to grasp Alfred's erection, spreading the precum that had gathered on the head around so softly and teasingly that Alfred almost growled. But he couldn't, he was too busy focusing on the British cock in his throat.

He felt Arthur pulling back and leaned forward, keeping him there for just a second until he realized they were getting to the main event. He looked up at Arthur, and _damn_, did he ever look good. The Englishman scooted back again so he could kiss Alfred properly, his hips grinding forward shamelessly, rubbing their members against each other. He pressed a kiss to Alfred's jaw, asking, "How do you want to do this?"

Alfred honestly didn't care. He just wanted to cum, and he wanted Arthur to get him there. "I dunno. Don't care. I'm used to topping more often, but I'm good either way."

Arthur smiled just a little bit deviously. "Usually the dominant one, are you?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Well then, how about you let me dominate you a little?"

Now, that sounded surprisingly hot. "Sure," he agreed, possibly a little _too_ quickly. Arthur didn't say anything, but his eyebrows went up. He crawled off of Alfred, leaving him feeling kind of cold and exposed, but Alfred got a complete view of Arthur from the back, so he didn't really mind. And yeah, he had a seriously great ass. But still, Alfred felt like mentioning something he had always wanted to try but had never really been brave enough to do. Or he just hadn't trusted his partner enough. "Tie me up, for all I care."

"Oh, would you like that?"

"Maybe…" Alfred grinned when Arthur glanced over his shoulder, getting something (or some _things_, rather) from his bedside table. He winked at the Englishman. "Only one way to find out, right?"

"Fair enough." Arthur tossed a bottle of lube and a condom packet on the bed, then reached down and snagged Alfred's necktie off the floor. Oh, hell. They were actually about to do this. Alfred felt his heart speed up a bit and he bit his lower lip, wanting Arthur to just get back over him already. Thankfully, Arthur soon climbed back on the bed, settling in between Alfred's legs and leaning in to kiss him, his hands slowly creeping down Alfred's chest, stopping for only a moment to toy with his nipples. And then finally, one of Arthur's hands was slipping low enough to stroke the inside of Alfred's thigh, and he pulled back to ask, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah. Go for it." Alfred nodded, and Arthur smiled, his eyes slipping to half-mast as he picked up the necktie, motioning for Alfred to lift his hands. Alfred went along, and he could tell without looking that Arthur was tying him to the headboard. He moved his arms a little once Arthur had tied him up, and he realized he couldn't get out of that if he wanted to. Oh, man.

Arthur kissed his neck. "If anything goes too far for you, just tell me and I'll stop."

"Okay." Was he imagining it, or had his voice gotten higher? Alfred cleared his throat, waiting for Arthur to just hurry up and get to it, watching him sit back and grab the bottle of lube. He felt his glasses slip down his nose and made a face. "Great. There they go again."

Arthur reached up, taking them off and setting them on the bedside table. He caught Alfred's lips for a kiss again, his tongue slipping into Alfred's mouth. Alfred tilted his head to the side a little so he could kiss Arthur better. He lifted his hips off the bed slightly, hoping Arthur would get the hint. Sure enough, not a second later, a lube-slick finger was rubbing around his entrance before pushing inside, and Alfred let himself go practically limp, relaxing immediately.

Arthur pulled back to laugh breathlessly. "For someone who usually tops, you certainly know what you're doing."

"I'm a fast learner."

"Oh, really?" Arthur crooked his finger, pressing right into _that_ spot, and Alfred forced back another moan.

"Hnng… yes, really."

Another finger slipped inside of him, and Alfred was struck by just how _warm_ it felt. Arthur had to be using warming lube or something, it was _way_ too hot for any other explanation. He rocked down onto Arthur's fingers slowly, just enjoying the warmth and gentle pressure. Oh fuck, that felt good… had it really been that long since he got laid?

A slick hand gripped his cock suddenly, and Alfred moaned out loud, his eyelids fluttering. "Ahn! Aren't y-you supposed to do that to yourself?"

"Oh, I plan to, don't you worry." Arthur grinned, not entirely unlike a wolf, his hand not stopping its movement on Alfred's erection. "But first," he continued, "I think I'd just like to see some more of the _lovely_ faces you make."

Damn, his voice got _so freakin' sexy_ when he was turned on… Alfred had to squeeze his eyes shut, blocking everything out, and feeling _way_ too close to the edge. "Gnh… already…" he heard a quiet laugh, and then Arthur's hand released him, something small and plastic sliding down his length instead. He opened his eyes, blinking a couple time to focus his blurry vision. Was that seriously…? "A cock ring?"

"I don't know about you, but I have stamina."

"I normally do, but…" Alfred trailed off, looking off to the side and shrugging as best as he could. "It's been a while," he mumbled, and Arthur just smiled again.

"In that case, shall I take this a little faster?"

"Please." Alfred felt a third finger work its way inside of him, and he arched his back at the feeling. "Oh, man… forgot… I forgot how good that is…"

Arthur let out a soft little groan, his eyes roaming over Alfred, who suddenly felt _really_ exposed. But that was okay. In fact, it was sort of _really_ turning him on, for some reason. Arthur picked the condom up off the bed, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself, adding a bit of extra lube. "I don't think you realise just how much you're driving me crazy," he murmured, guiding the tip of his cock to Alfred's entrance. "Are you ready for me?"

"Yeah," Alfred breathed, biting his lip as he felt Arthur begin to press into him, the stretch still a little painful. But he could deal with that. Arthur stopped for a moment, kissing him on the forehead, and Alfred realized Arthur was waiting for him to relax. Oh. Well, that was… surprisingly nice. He rolled his hips downwards, trying to signal that he was okay. He just wanted to get on with it, a little pain didn't matter.

Arthur took the hint, sinking inside of him all the way, stopping for just a moment to moan softly. "Nnh… god, you're tight."

Alfred tried to reply, embarrassed when he found he could barely form words already. "Oh, man… just _move_ or something… I can't even…"

He felt Arthur's hands land on his hips, and the Englishman pulled back before snapping his hips forward again, at an angle that made Alfred gasp. Oh god, that was almost it. He had seriously forgotten how good bottoming could be. And when Arthur hit his prostate dead-on with his next thrust, Alfred was a little surprised by how loudly he moaned, feeling his face heat up with a blush. He really wasn't used to any of this, and it felt really weird but really good, how he couldn't move his arms at all, not even to push himself up on the bed so he could be closer to Arthur, which he _really_ wanted to do right then. Instead, he could only arch his back off the bed and hope that Arthur could realize what he wanted.

And, what do you know, Arthur leaned in to kiss Alfred. A little too sweetly for what they were doing, yeah, but that was okay. Then he gave a particularly harsh thrust _right_ against his prostate, and Alfred trembled with the effort of holding back the groan that rose in his throat, already feeling so, so close to cumming. But as Arthur didn't slow his pace and just kept watching him with those intense, green eyes, his thrusts punctuated occasionally by short, sharp groans, Alfred had to look away.

Okay, so maybe staring down at where they were connected wasn't the best way to hold back from the edge, not when he couldn't tear his eyes away, not when he could see everything for himself. He forced himself to look back up, letting out a weird little mewling noise when Arthur's hands rubbed his hips gently. Alfred could _feel _Arthur throb inside of him at that, getting even harder, and he rolled his hips down, wanting still more. He tried to move his wrists, forgetting that he was tied up, and he flopped back on the bed with a quiet growl that morphed into a breathy moan when Arthur rocked his hips into _that_ spot over and over, sending Alfred's brain into overload.

But he couldn't come. Goddamn cock ring. That was _so_ frustrating but _so _awesome, and he bit his lip to stifle his moans. Arthur's eyelids fluttered for a second, and he bit Alfred's neck gently. "Hah… damn, Al. You have no idea how sexy you are like this…"

Alfred groaned softly, feeling his face heat up even more at those words. He couldn't do _anything_, and that was making him feel _way_ too hot and w_ay _too desperate but he was loving every second of it and holy fuck, Arthur was good at this. Alfred felt like he was about to come again, but nothing happened and he was just arching his back and his brain couldn't even process anything and he felt like he fucking needed to _scream_ or something, the pressure was so good but way too much. He looked up at Arthur desperately, wanting him to do something, the Englishman's cock just constantly driving into him perfectly.

Arthur cried out suddenly, his pace getting faster and harder until Alfred was just a writhing mess of pleasure, gasping to get any breath, and then suddenly he could come, Arthur's hand pulling off the cock ring and wrapping around his erection, stimulation he really didn't need but that only made him cry out louder, unable to get away from all of it. Arthur's hips slowed, his breathing harsh and fast, until he had stopped moving altogether and was just holding onto Alfred's hip with one hand, his stomach and chest splattered with Alfred's cum. He let out a soft groan, releasing Alfred's cock and leaning down to kiss him, his clean hand reaching up to untie him.

Alfred brought his arms down as soon as they were free, pulling Arthur on top of him, not caring if he was getting himself dirty. He was already all sweaty and stuff anyways. He ran his hands over Arthur's back and shoulders, where he couldn't touch before. Arthur pulled back to breathe, pulling out of Alfred as the same time. He pulled off the condom, tying it up and tossing it into a nearby wastebasket.

He moved back in, kissing Alfred's cheeks and rubbing his wrists lightly, murmuring, "Would you like me to get you a towel or something?"

"In a minute." Alfred still just wanted to hold Arthur close to him. Arthur sighed and wrapped his arms around Alfred's chest. Alfred ran a hand through the Englishman's hair, still kind of catching his breath. Because _damn_, that had been good. Best sex of his life. "How'd you know?" he asked, prompting Arthur to lift his head up a bit.

"Sorry, didn't catch that?"

"How'd you know? Like, that was awesome, and I just couldn't even…"

"Ah. Well." Arthur propped himself up on one elbow before continuing, "In my experience, it's often the most self-confident men who come completely undone when they lose a little control over the situation."

"Yeah, you're right about that. _Damn._" Alfred was now starting to feel sort of glad that Arthur had put a cock ring on him, because otherwise he would've come _way_ before Arthur and that would've just been totally embarrassing.

Arthur leaned forward, brushing Alfred's hair out of his eyes and kissing him on the forehead. "Stay the night here, will you?"

Alfred laughed softly. "I don't think I could get up right now even if I wanted to."

"Good." Alfred reached over and grabbed a box of tissues from his bedside table. He sat up for a moment and wiped himself off, then did the same to Alfred, tossing the dirtied tissues in the wastebasket near the bed.

"Thanks," Alfred murmured, already a little drowsier than he would've liked to admit.

Arthur just shrugged, rolling off of Alfred and pulling the blankets over them. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for bed."

"Yeah, me too." Alfred was about to roll onto his side and kiss Arthur good night when the Englishman cuddled up to him, his hand resting on Alfred's chest. He lifted his head up to capture Alfred's lips for just a moment, one hand stroking Alfred's cheek.

"Good night," he murmured when they broke apart, and Alfred nodded.

"G'night."

He rested a hand on Arthur's back and closed his eyes, sleep fogging over his brain. The last thing we thought to himself before drifting off was, 'Well, this was _way_ better than I expected.'

…

He woke up the next morning to something on his chest that hadn't been there earlier. Something suspiciously soft and fluffy. What the fuck…? He opened his eyes to come face to face with a very furry creature, which proceeded to meow loudly. Arthur, who was still cuddled up, Alfred noticed, grumbled quietly with frustration and buried his face in Alfred's chest. "No… go away. I'll feed you in twenty minutes, I promise."

Will was apparently not content with Arthur's plea, and meowed again, still sitting on Alfred's chest with a very determined air. Alfred reached out to pat him. "Good morning, kitty. I think your master is being a little too lazy to get you breakfast right now."

"No, he's just being impatient," Arthur mumbled into Alfred's neck.

Alfred turned his head to the side, kissing Arthur on the top of the head. "Good morning to you too."

"Mm." Arthur lifted his head up for a moment, kissing Alfred briefly and running a hand through his hair. "I'd better get up and feed him, or he'll never leave us alone. Keep the bed warm, will you?"

"Sure thing."

Arthur climbed out of bed, giving Alfred plenty of opportunity to ogle him before grabbing a bathrobe from a hook behind the bedroom door. "Come on then, my little pest." Will jumped off the bed and followed Arthur out of the room, and Alfred closed his eyes again. A couple minutes later he heard Arthur, apparently scolding the cat for something. "Oh, just wait a minute. If you wouldn't trip me up like that, this would go so much more quickly. Now really, sod off and stay out of the way."

A little while later, he reappeared in the bedroom doorway, rolling his eyes. He closed the door behind him, shedding the robe and giving Alfred another eyeful of his naked body. He slid back into bed, pressing himself right up against Alfred again. And sure, it felt a little too intimate, considering they'd only been dating a little over a month and had literally _just_ slept together for the first time (in both senses of the phrase, on top of that). But hey, it was pretty nice. And it just felt kind of right to Alfred, having Arthur beside him. Right, but also a little strange.

…

The next day, Alfred was hanging out with Gilbert and Kiku, sitting on the floor since the German man was hogging most of the couch. But hey, they were playing one of Kiku's new games, so it was okay. Alfred had actually remembered to buy snack food, too, so they were munching on pretzel sticks, which Gilbert insisted were _so_ much more awesome dipped in nutella, but Alfred didn't have any, so too bad for him.

Gilbert grabbed his can of pop off the coffee table and took a swig. "Book club's this Friday, right?"

"Yep. At Antonio's. I don't know his address or anything, but I'm probably gonna carpool with Arthur or something, so it's cool."

"Okay, just checking. And you and Arthur… what's up with that?"

"Whaddya mean?"

Gilbert shrugged. "You're together, right? Like, _together_ together?"

"Yep. We've been dating like, a month. And he's way more laid-back than you'd think. At least, he's more chill if you get him alone."

"Well congrats, I guess." Gilbert shot Alfred's character on the screen and laughed maliciously. "And now _die,_ mothafucka!"

"Oh, you _dick!_ You're gonna pay for that."

"Make me! Whoa—who just shot me?"

"Kiku with his silent sniper skills."

"Dammit! I was doing so awesomely!"

Kiku barely glanced over from his perch on the arm of the couch, speaking to Alfred. "Didn't you have a date with Arthur on Friday night?"

"Sure did. Dinner and a movie. Nothing' super original or anything, yeah, but it was fun."

"That's good."

"Yeah, I know. And dude, his cat woke me up by getting like, _right_ in my face."

Gilbert paused the game. "His cat woke you up?"

"That's what I said, yeah."

"Meaning you stayed the night?"

"Uh… yeah." Alfred shrugged.

"Good for you, bro." Gilbert resumed the game.

Kiku stood up. "I'm going to get a glass of water."

"C'mon Kiku, don't be a pussy. Sit your ass down." Gilbert pointed right at Kiku, and the Japanese man sighed, sitting back down.

"Fine."

"I'm not going to ask anything, so don't worry. You are just _way_ too awkward, Kiku. It's so un-awesome!"

"No, I just have a sense of decency."

"Whatever. You're still a pussy."

Kiku muttered something that Alfred couldn't quite make out, but since he glared at Gilbert, he assumed it was an insult. He decided to change the subject. "So, who's caught up in the book?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I'm still on chapter two. I got distracted."

"I'm on chapter seven."

"Well, of course _you _are, bro. Stupid overachiever."

Alfred smirked. "I'm caught up as well."

"Well, you're dating the host. If you aren't reading the book, you're in big trouble."

"Yeah, true. But we don't really talk about books much, so…"

"You mean Arthur actually has a life?"

Alfred laughed. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but yeah, he does. Don't we all?"

"Okay, okay. But he just seems all stuffy and shit."

"He's not. I know, it's weird." Alfred smirked. "And he cusses like a sailor, dude. We should totally get him into gaming, that would be so epic…"

"Good luck with that. And _fuck_, who killed me again?"

Alfred grinned, singing, "Gotta kill 'em all!"

Gilbert leaned over and punched him on the arm. "You're an asshole."

"An asshole who just totally kicked your butt! Now bring it on, suckah!"

"Oh, you're asking for it now, and—_Scheiße! _Kiku, stop it!"

Alfred high-fived Kiku. "Way to go, man. Let's keep it up!"

…

When Gilbert and Kiku went home for the night, the German pissed about the other two constantly teaming up on him, Alfred felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and pulled it out to check it. Three messages. Two from Matt, since he was with the group of people heading to the Caribbean to volunteer (lucky bastard) despite his broken leg, and Alfred had asked him to text when his plane took off and landed, and one from Arthur. Weird, he never texted. So he checked the ones from Matt first, and yep, he was safe and sound. Hooray for that. Now, if Matthew could manage not to get pickpocketed, that would be awesome. Something about him just told people, "Hey, I'm a dork who doesn't pay attention to where my wallet is! Take all my money!"

Poor Matt. As long as he kept his passport safe… hell, Francis could always look after him. He'd have to ask Arthur to text Francis and ask him to look after Matthew. And speaking of Arthur, he had a text message from him! Maybe he was finally learning how to use his phone… probably not, though. The most recent text Alfred had gotten from him was an accident, when the cat stepped on his phone and managed to send Al and everyone else in Arthur's address book a bunch of garbled nonsense. It was like trying to decode a drunken person's message, only worse.

Anyways, Alfred checked the message. And it was coherent English! That was shocking all on its own. However the message itself was completely innocent, just asking if Matthew had made it safely to Antigua, which was apparently where their plane landed. That was news to Alfred. He replied that yep, they were all safe and sound. It was weird, that Arthur actually remembered Alfred had a brother. Most of his boyfriends completely forgot about Matthew, even if he was in the same room, which was just kind of sad.

So, that got Arthur points in his book. Well, that and a lot of other things. Still, Alfred was pretty new to this whole sort-of serious relationship thing, and he didn't want to get his hopes up. Because that would be bad. But he didn't want to be too casual either, because that would _also_ be bad. He just had to find a sort of balance. Yep. Balance was the key to everything.

But _boy, _he sure sucked at balance.

* * *

_Yes, the title of this chapter is a bit of a pun… I couldn't resist. So, um, as always, thanks for reading and tell me if you see anything I need to fix! Stay awesome, bros. And happy Valentine's Day in advance! I love you all, and if you need a Valentine, I'm all yours :D_

_And while I'm not going to be updating this particular story on Valentine's Day, I plan to upload a few one-shots I've had sitting around for a little while. Expect an update on this baby in about a week or so!_


	6. Don't Pass Me By

_Hey guys! Sorry this took so long. Life's been pretty hectic and busy these past couple weeks, and it was hard for me to find time to write this fic. I didn't want to give you guys a crappy update, so I tried to take my time and not rush. But then I felt kind of guilty for not getting it done fast, but… yeah. It's ready now! And I'm gonna try to update faster than this next time. I mean it._

_So yeah, as always, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and the like, the feedback on this story is really awesome. It makes me so warm and fuzzy inside when I read your comments… oh yeah, and please don't hesitate to point out any grammar or spelling mistakes you see!_

_No particular warnings for this chapter, except for occasional bad language. But whatever, we're all used to that here!_

* * *

When Alfred bumped into Arthur at work that Monday, it was surprisingly not at all awkward. Arthur just smiled and nodded at him, and Alfred waved back. Nothing seemed all that different. Well, Alfred figured, why would things be all that different, anyways? It's not like they had a one-night stand, so there wasn't any of that embarrassing 'avoid eye contact at all times' kind of thing. Hell, no one at the office even knew they were dating.

Okay, except for Gilbert, and he had just shrugged and said since they worked in different departments and didn't have any real correspondence, there weren't any conflicts of interest or anything. Now, if Arthur was his boss or something, that'd be a problem, and Alfred knew it, but since he wasn't… it was fine. Gilbert had actually punched Alfred on the arm and told him with a grin and a wink that he just didn't want to see or hear about anything improper going on at the office.

Alfred ate lunch in the cafeteria with a group of the I.T. guys that day, which was really not appreciated by the people at the next table over. Apparently, they were the hooligans of the workplace. Well whatever, they were just a bunch of prissy chicks from the Human Resources department. Alfred knew one of them from his high school. She was head of the cheer squad when he was a sophomore, and she _definitely_ wasn't one of the nice cheerleaders. She was a bitch then, and she had stayed a bitch. Only now she had lost her uber-skinny physique. Ha. And she was the kind of girl who used to giggle at anyone who wasn't a skeleton-zombie with fake eyelashes and bleached hair. Ha. Sure, Alfred knew he was being kind of bitchy for thinking that, but he wasn't going to tell anyone what he was thinking. He'd just feel morally superior from afar. He took a bite of his sandwich, raising his eyebrows when he heard her talking to her little posse.

"Ooh, here he comes!"

Now, who was she ogling? Alfred looked around, seeing who was in the selection of guys who hadn't sat down yet. Old guy, balding guy, tired-looking guy who had four kids, guy who looked like a frog and never blinked… well, that wasn't very promising. Oh, and there was Arthur. Hang on… no way. She was absolutely _not_ flirting with Arthur.

But sure enough, when the Englishman walked past her table, she smiled and batted her (fake) eyelashes at him. "Hi there, Arthur. Do you need somewhere to sit?"

"Not today, Miss Bell. My apologies."

"That's too bad. Maybe another day?"

"Perhaps." Arthur looked over and caught Alfred's eye, and Alfred grinned and winked at him. Take _that_, psycho-bitch woman! …okay, maybe he was being a little bit jealous for no reason. Whatever. Arthur sat down next to Alfred and rolled his eyes. "By god, she simply _cannot_ take a hint."

One of Alfred's coworkers looked over and smirked. "Blondie over there with the spray tan?"

"Yes."

"I know her. She used to hang around Gil until he told her he was way more interested in beer than in women like her."

Alfred laughed. "Ouch. Well, at least he's honest."

"Yeah, true." The other man shook his head. "Hey Al, you going to the new horror movie this weekend?"

"I think I'll wait until it's on DVD or Netflix or something." Alfred shrugged. "I don't need the whole theater hearing me scream like a little girl."

Another man laughed. "Dude, this one time, a chick in front of me started pretty much _crying_. She literally grabbed onto her friend's arm and like, _sobbed_. The other girl pushed her off and told her to get over it."

"Yeah, that sounds kind of like me. Except for the crying part. But seriously, it takes weeks of puppy and kitten therapy to get me over a super scary movie." Alfred shook his head.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Do you get nightmares?"

Alfred shrugged. "Depends on the movie. If it's super suspenseful and stuff, like Alien, then yeah. You've all seen it, right?" Everyone at the table nodded, so he continued, "And man… how they had that weird heartbeat thing going whenever the alien was nearby… that was too much for me."

"How so?" Arthur was looking a little bit too amused by this, Alfred decided, but he didn't really care.

"I watched it with Kiku and Matt when we were all fourteen, one of those sleepover-movie night things. And after the movie, when we were trying to get to sleep, I was kind of freaked out, so I decided to just listen to my heart beating to calm me down. Bad idea. I totally panicked, and Matt covered my face with a pillow, since he thought it'd help."

One of the other guys smirked. "Did it help?"

"Nope. But it did make our dad come bang on the door and tell us to shut up. And then he told me not to be such a pussy…" Alfred rolled his eyes. "In hindsight, I _was_ sort of overreacting, but it seemed totally rational to me at the time."

"As long as you don't do it anymore, dude. C'mon, when you're fourteen and new to horror movies, anything scares you," one of Alfred's colleagues piped up.

Alfred shrugged, taking a sip of his water. "I kind of tend to grab onto whoever's next to me. If it's someone I know, fine. If I'm at a movie theater and it's some guy's girlfriend… that can be awkward. I got punched in the face for that once. Seriously, the guy almost broke my nose."

"Better than falling asleep on someone's girlfriend on a plane." Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "I woke up to her boyfriend dragging me out of my seat by my hair and throwing me into the aisle. That was… interesting."

"Ouch."

"That was on my flight to America when I was transferring here, as well. It gave me a wonderful first impression of your people."

One of the men laughed. "Welcome to America! Touch our women, we punch you and kick you while you're down."

"And if you don't watch sports, you're a weirdo outcast freak. Among guys, at least."

"True. So, who watched the game last Friday? Al?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nope. Sorry guys, I was busy."

"Busy? Dude, c'mon! You'd better have a good reason for that!"

"Yeah. Unless you were getting laid or something, no excuses."

"Well, I got a good reason then." Alfred grinned, and one of the guys fist-bumped him.

"Way to go, bro! You're excused. What about you, British dude?"

"I was otherwise preoccupied as well." Arthur shrugged, and the rest of the guys at the table sighed.

"Okay, now I just feel bad about myself. We seriously need to go pick up some chicks."

"Well, there's always Barbie girl over there if you're desperate."

"Hey, if she shuts up, she's actually kind of cute."

"Dude. That's mean."

"But true! Honesty's the best policy, right?"

"Whatever. Ah, there goes my buzzer. No… second floor. Sonuvabitch." The man whose buzzer went off stood up with a sigh. "I hate the Marketing people… they don't know how to shut up and let you work."

"Ha!" One of the other men whacked him on the back. "See ya, suckah! …and there goes my buzzer. Damn karma."

Alfred checked his watch. "Well, lunch break _is_ pretty much over… mine's probably gonna be—oh, there it goes. Jeez. Is there another building-wide problem again?"

"I dunno. Call Gil. You know he likes you best."

"Okay, I'll check and see what's up. See ya, Arthur! Sorry to abandon you and all, but… duty calls."

"Go do your job. I'll live."

"Yeah. And remember, if your computer's acting up, just give me a call."

"Of course. Have a good afternoon."

Alfred shot a brief glance at cheerleader-bitch lady as he left, wondering if she even recognized him. Probably not. Ha.

…

The next week, after a fairly uneventful book club meeting at Antonio's (sure, Gilbert got drunk and actually did take his shirt off, but Alfred remembered to wear matching socks, so it was all good), Alfred noticed Gilbert was hiding in his office from someone. Not any of his people, either. It was a chick from the manufacturing department who was some kind of demon or something, according to Gilbert.

She seemed nice enough to Alfred, and actually brought pastries for them on Tuesday. Sure, it was only a bribe so they'd let her into the office to yell at Gil, but it was _so_ worth it. Afterwards, when she had left and all of them peeked in to see if she had actually thrown Gilbert out the window or something, he was just sitting at his desk, looking both exhausted and kind of amazed. Probably because she had a real pair of lungs on her… boy, could she ever yell. Apparently, something had happened with the printer on the fifth floor, and she blamed Gilbert for it. That and she was still mad and refusing to forgive him for something that had happened a few years earlier with one of their friends… drama!

Anyways, she was the only person Gilbert seemed intimidated by. And she had a funny name… like Elizabeth or something, but weirder.

"Elizaveta!"

Oh, that was it. But why was Arthur talking about her? Alfred was fixing the printer on the sixth floor (punishment for him laughing at Gilbert, apparently) when he saw his boyfriend chasing her down.

"Bad news. The meeting's been rescheduled."

"To when?"

"Ten minutes from now."

"Oh, for the love of… let me get my things." She ducked into her office to grab something. In the meantime, Arthur noticed Alfred and waved to him, opening his mouth to say something when Elizaveta came back. "I really hope this is everything. We really need to have a talk with whoever rescheduled on us… oh, is the printer fixed?"

Alfred was in the process of standing up when she talked to him. "Huh? Oh, yeah. It should work great now. If it doesn't, I'll be back to see if there's anything else wrong with it."

"Thank you!" She smiled brightly, and Alfred had to smile back. Well, she was actually nice when she wasn't shouting at Gilbert. She turned to Arthur. "Should we go?"

"Probably. If you want a decent seat so you can stare out the window when Ludwig gets talking, then definitely."

"Right. Let's hurry!"

They walked off, turning down a side hallway. Alfred was headed more or less that same way, but decided not to catch up with them. When he was about to turn down the hallway to the stairs, Elizaveta dropped a folder. "Oops."

Arthur bent down to pick it up for her. "Don't bother, I'll get it."

"Always such a gentleman."

If she said anything after that, it definitely didn't register with Alfred. He was too busy staring at Arthur's ass. Because damn, he looked_ really_ good in those pants. His train of thought was cut off when something collided with his head, and he realized he had walked into a wall. Ow. That actually seriously hurt. Alfred took a step to the side, rubbing his forehead and looking around to make sure no one had seen that.

No one seemed to have noticed, and Arthur and Elizaveta were long gone down the hallway. Phew. But why was his vision messed up? That question was answered when a piece of his glasses lens fell out of the frame. He caught it as it fell, and took off his glasses to inspect the damage. Oh, great. The left lens was totally cracked, and he could see exactly where that little shard had come from. That's what he got for having glass lenses… sonuvabitch. At least they were old glasses!

…

After work, Alfred went to the optometrist's to get a new pair, and was told he'd have to wait for at least an hour. Booooooring. He decided to play games on his phone to pass the time, until he got a phone call. From Arthur. He answered right away. "Hi!"

"Alfred?"

"Yep. What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you were busy right now."

"Oh. Well I'm kind of at the eye doctor's, but…"

"The eye doctor?"

"Yeah. I broke my glasses this afternoon, so I need a new pair."

"You broke your glasses?"

"Yep. I walked into a wall, so…" He could tell Arthur was repressing laughter, and he rolled his eyes. "I got distracted, okay? And I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Your family is rather accident-prone, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, we are."

"Well, let me know if you're free after you get your new glasses."

"I'll be free. You wanna come over to my place?"

"Sure."

"Cool. I'll call you when I'm out of the optometrist's, okay?"

"Sounds good."

"I'll talk to you later!"

As Alfred hung up, someone called his name. "Mr. Jones?"

"That's me!" He stood up and followed the lady who had called him.

"Your glasses are ready. We'll just need to make sure they fit, and you'll be good to go."

"Awesome. Thanks a bunch." When his glasses were nicely fitted and he was ready to go, Alfred waved to the women behind the desk as he left. "Bye! And thanks a ton. I could barely drive straight on my way here."

A couple people cringed, and he decided that maybe he shouldn't have said that. Oh well, too late now! He called Arthur, letting him know that he'd be home in about twenty minutes or so. In truth, it was only a ten-minute drive, so he spent the other ten minutes straightening up his apartment. And hesitated about whether he should leave his bedroom door open or not. If he left it wide open, that seemed kind of like he was expecting something, but if he closed it all the way, it would look like he was hiding something. So he settled for leaving the door halfway open.

Alfred checked the fridge to see if he could throw anything decent together for dinner. He had no fresh vegetables or anything. Wow… he seriously needed to lay off the fast food for a while. On the plus side, he had just enough to make pasta Alfredo with. Awesomesauce (and seriously, Alfredo sauce _was_ awesome. And not just because it had 'Alfred' in it. But that did help).

When his room intercom buzzed, he ran over to answer. "Door's open!" Okay, now all he had to do was relax and not be a dork. Easier said than done, though. But when he opened the door for Arthur, he found it surprisingly easy to just smile and say, "Hi!"

"Evening." Arthur smiled back, and one of Alfred's neighbors (a college student rooming with her two best friends) walked past and waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Alfred.

He replied with a wave. "Hey, Sarah! I like the haircut."

She opened the door to her apartment and waved over her shoulder to Alfred. "And I like the boyfriend. Have fun!" Arthur looked between her and Alfred as he stepped into the apartment.

"She and her buddies were in my group of freshmen when I was a frosh leader," Alfred explained. "We hang out sometimes. They're nice, but _man_ do they giggle a lot." Alfred closed the door behind Arthur. "Kick off your shoes, make yourself at home."

He wasn't sure if they were at the point where they would kiss or hug 'hello' yet, so he decided to let Arthur make that decision. He was older; he'd know what to do. And when Arthur had taken off his shoes and jacked, he put a hand on the back of Alfred's neck and pulled him into a quick kiss. Better than after book club the previous week, when they had carpooled to go to Antonio's, and when Arthur has dropped Alfred off back at the apartment, he had some kind of spaz attack and ended up kissing Arthur's neck instead. Whoops.

When he pulled back, Alfred grinned. "So, have you had dinner?"

"Not yet, no."

"Well, I'm making pasta Alfredo, if you wanna help." Arthur gave Alfred a look that made him briefly wonder if he actually _wanted_ him to help out, but he shrugged it off. It was hard to ruin pasta, right?

Apparently not, as Arthur didn't seem to understand the concept of stirring. Luckily, Alfred managed to save it from turning into a horrible mess stuck to the bottom of the pot. He decided to take charge of the sauce, definitely not trusting Arthur with that. He _really_ could not cook. Alfred pointed to the fridge, asking, "Can you grab the milk?"

"Sure." Arthur passed it to him.

"Thanks."

"Is there any particular reason you have a half-full, litre bottle of Bailey's in your fridge?"

Oh. So he hadn't given it to Sarah and the girls the last time they were over. "Uh… because it's good?"

"I wouldn't have pegged you as someone who enjoyed girly drinks." Arthur smirked, and Alfred shrugged.

"They're sweet and taste good. Nothing wrong with that, right?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Anyways, dinner's ready. What do you want to drink?"

"Water's fine."

They ate in relative silence, which was actually surprisingly okay. Alfred didn't feel pressed to talk about something, so he didn't bother. That and he was actually really hungry. He cleared the dishes away after they were done. "Hang tight for a minute, I'll clean up." He glanced at the clock as he rinsed their plates, and suddenly remembered something. "Shit! I'm supposed to skype Matt in five minutes! My laptop should be on the coffee table, can you start it up for me?"

"Of course."

"Thanks. Man, he was gonna be _so_ pissed off if I forgot… I mean, he's three hours ahead, so it's around ten his time. That's when we're supposed to talk."

"You actually schedule video calls with your brother?"

"When he's out of the country, yeah. Once a week we talk face-to-face, so I can make sure he's okay. Ever since that one time he got a broken nose and didn't tell me until he got back, we've been doing this."

"He broke his nose?"

"Yeah. We're accident-prone, remember? Another time he got a black eye, and one time when he was gone _I _cracked a few ribs in a bike accident, so… yeah. Sometimes I sort of wish I could go with him, but hey. It's his life."

"Fair enough."

When Matthew logged into skype, right on schedule, Alfred called him right away, hoping nothing too bad had happened to him. He was happy to see that his brother wasn't disfigured in any way. "Mattie! 'Sup?"

"Not much. I'm in the volunteer compound for the night, obviously."

"Is it one of those dormitory type things?"

"Yep. There are fourteen guys, including me, but there's room for twenty-five in this room, so it's okay."

"Not too cramped, huh?"

"Nope. So, uh… is that Arthur there with you?"

"Yep."

Arthur waved to Matthew. "Good evening, Matthew."

"Hi there! Okay Al, I can only talk for half an hour max. It's lights out at eleven-fifteen, and I still need to shower before bed."

"Fine with me. So, you've been working hard down there?"

"Well, sort of."

"You'd better not be doing anything _too_ tough. I don't want you messing up your leg, okay?"

"Al, it's fine. I'm just not doing any heavy lifting. It's not like I'm pregnant or anything."

Alfred grinned. "If you were, I'd be worried. We're identical twins, and last I checked, I'm a dude."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "And you're the older one, so they say… who's more mature?"

"Hey, don't be all sarcastic with me."

"Whatever you say." Matthew looked off-screen for a second, apparently distracted by something.

"Hey," Alfred tapped the webcam lens with his finger. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Just… never mind." Matthew cleared his throat. "Francis, you might want to put some pants on."

"Why? No one else is in the room with us."

"Yes, well… I'm talking to my brother."

"Oh… I see. Tell him he's a spoilsport."

Alfred laughed at the slightly mortified look on Matthew's face. Matthew shook his head, closing his eyes. "I'll pass the message on."

"Does he know I can hear him?"

"I don't think so." Matthew sighed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Even if he does know, he probably doesn't care."

"Hold on," Alfred heard Francis say, "I thought you were talking to your brother."

"I am."

"Then why do I hear Arthur's voice there too?"

"Because he's there with Al."

"Oh, is he now?"

"Yep. Now really, put some pants on. Al, how's life been for you?"

"Oh, you know. Work is work, I broke my glasses today…"

"How?"

"I walked into a wall."

"Oh. Better than getting in a fight, like last time."

"Yeah. How about you?"

Matthew shrugged, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I've managed to avoid any accidents here so far. Except I took a double dose of my malaria preventative medicine yesterday. The tablets stuck together, so…"

"Matt… please tell me that's not as bad as when you doubled your dose of painkillers after we got our wisdom teeth out."

"I don't think so. I didn't have any dreams or hallucinations of a giant, murderous Pikachu or aliens who wanted to barbecue us, so…"

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah. Oh, and the next time you get a cold, make sure you tell me what the Nyquil does to your brain!"

"I will." Arthur gave him a confused look, so Alfred explained, "Whenever I take Nyquil, I get really delirious and hallucinate. One time, when Matt and I were in high school, our parents left us home alone when I was doped up on it. Matt kind of had to drag me outside to get fresh air because I was starting to slur my words and zone out too much. I still get the crazy symptoms, too."

"He hates it," Matthew piped up. "Says it makes playing video games a nightmare."

"You'd freak out too if it looked like a fifty-foot long scorpion was about to jump out of the television screen!"

"Probably. But I've never had that experience, so…"

"Lucky you."

Matthew glanced at something on his computer screen and sighed. "I'd better go have my shower now. Same time, next week?"

"Sure! You get back the Tuesday after, right?"

"If all goes as planned, yep. I'll talk to you later. And it was nice to see you, Arthur."

"Nice to see you as well."

"See ya later, Matt! And tell Francis it was nice to… hear him."

"I will. Bye, Al. Love you."

"Love you too, bro. Don't get into too much trouble, 'kay?"

"I'll try." Matthew smiled and waved before hanging up.

Alfred shook his head. "I'm just gonna be happy when he gets home in one piece." He closed up his laptop and pushed it across the coffee table.

"You know, I think it's sweet that you care about your brother."

"Well, he's the only brother I've got."

"Still…" Arthur reached over and brushed a lock of hair out of Alfred's eyes, and Alfred felt himself get a little hot-faced. Man, what was up with him? He didn't normally get this easily embarrassed when people complimented him. It just felt way different when Arthur said something like that to him compared to when anyone else did. Like, it meant more or seemed more sincere or something like that.

But when he opened his mouth to reply, probably about to say something really ineloquent and dumb, Arthur's lips were suddenly on his. Well, that was definitely one way to avoid saying anything stupid. Alfred rested his hands on Arthur's hips, leaning further into the kiss when the Englishman put his arms around Alfred's neck. When they broke apart to breathe, Alfred's eyes flicked down briefly, and he noticed that Arthur's shirt had ridden up enough to expose his tattoo.

He rubbed his thumb over it, remembering that Arthur had said he'd explain it later… man, if it was in memory of an ex-boyfriend or something, Alfred was _not_ gonna be happy. Arthur glanced down as well, apparently noticing that Alfred was staring at the small Celtic knot. "That's right, I haven't told you about that yet, have I?"

"Nope. So…"

"It's nothing particularly important, really. I got it shortly after moving here from England."

"To remember your old home?"

"Partially. Also as a reminder to always be myself, instead of who everyone wants me to be. I had a bit of a falling-out with my family right before I left, mostly because I had been hiding something rather important from them for quite some time. It wasn't nice to leave home with everyone angry at me and then come to a place where no one knew me, but I decided to make a fresh start for myself here."

Alfred nodded. "I get it."

"So it's just a bit symbolic for me. And it was the best I could to, short of getting a certain Shakespeare quote, but that would've been too long."

"This above all: to thine own self be true." When Arthur looked at him in surprise, Alfred continued, "Hamlet. Act one, scene three."

"And here I thought you didn't read."

"I don't. I was in my high school's production of Hamlet my senior year."

"And who were you? The title character?"

"Nope. I was the guy who had that line recited to him."

"Laertes?"

"Yep. He was always my favourite character anyways. He seemed like a nice guy too, except for the whole conspiring to murder Hamlet. Matt actually played Hamlet, so we got to kill each other in front of the whole school. That was pretty fun." Alfred noticed Arthur staring at him sort of wide-eyed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing." In a lower voice, Arthur added, "You have no idea how much more attractive that made you, do you?" Alfred laughed, and Arthur blinked a couple times. "That was out loud, wasn't it?"

"Yep."

"Bugger. Oh well." He straddled Alfred on the couch, kissing him again. "It's _really_ too bad we have work tomorrow."

"Tell me about it." Alfred slid his hands lower, squeezing Arthur's ass. And damn, it felt just as good as it looked. _Totally _worth breaking his glasses over.

Arthur nipped Alfred's lower lip gently. "But if you keep that up, I might just have to make us late to work tomorrow."

"Hey, I don't mind."

"Unfortunately, I have a conference call at seven-thirty."

"Aw… fine. Make it up to me this weekend?"

"Definitely." Arthur slid off of Alfred, albeit rather reluctantly. "I'll be free at almost any time."

"Ditto."

After Arthur got his shoes and jacket on, they kissed good night briefly, and Alfred was pretty sorry to see Arthur go. But hey, now he knew there were no secret ex-boyfriends or anything. Well, none worth getting a tattoo over. And that was always a good thing!

Though he had forgotten to mention that he'd be busy Sunday afternoon… pshaw, like anyone did anything fun on Sundays anyways! He was heading to the local animal shelter to volunteer. Mostly for the sake of seeing puppies and kittens… the perfect way to spend an afternoon, anyways!

…

That Sunday, Alfred was sitting on the floor of one of the rooms specifically for cats, playing with an orange tabby kitten who was really more interested in untying his shoelaces than anything else.

"Kitty. Kitty-kitty-kitty! Lookie here, cutie! I've got a toy!" The kitten paid _no _attention to him whatsoever, so he sighed. "Fine, kitty. Chew on my shoes, whatever floats your boat. What's your name, anyways?" Alfred checked the kitten's paperwork. "…Creamsicle? Oh, that's a seriously crappy name for a boy like you. I'm gonna call you Fred. Freddy! Hey, little Freddy!" The kitten finally reacted to him waving around a catnip mouse, and pounced on his hand. "Yay! Good little Freddy." Just then, the door to the room Alfred was in opened, and Alfred scooped up the kitten so he wouldn't run away. "C'mere, babycakes. No escaping today."

Alfred didn't pay attention to the person who was coming in until a very familiar voice spoke. "Now, which one is number twenty-seven…? Oh, quit that squirming, you fat bastard. Yes, there's a kitten on the floor. Yes, it's cute." Alfred looked up, and sure enough, it was Arthur. Whoa. He was in the middle of putting a rather heavyset (ahem, extremely fat) cat back in its kennel. Then he noticed Alfred, and looked about as surprised as Alfred felt. "Alfred?"

"Hi." They stayed frozen for a minute until Arthur looked down and Alfred realized Fred (Creamsicle) had wiggled out of his hands and was scaling Arthur's pant leg. "Oh! Sorry 'bout that, I'll get him." Alfred got up and walked over, bending down to pull the kitten off. He blinked a couple times when he noticed how close his face was to Arthur's package, remembering he had been in a rather similar position the night before. And that was something _very _inappropriate to think about while holding a kitten. He straightened back up, clearing his throat. "Sorry. He's a fast little thing."

"Most of them are." Arthur rocked back and forth on his heels for a second. "I didn't know you volunteered here."

"Oh, yeah. I just started a couple weeks ago. Matt finally got to me with his constant goody-two-shoes stuff, I guess." He shrugged. "So, how long have you been here?"

"Around three years. I actually adopted Will from here a couple years back. I had promised myself I wouldn't take any of them home, but…"

"Yeah, I know the feeling. Seriously, the only reason I haven't adopted any pets from here yet is because I know my landlord wouldn't put up with it if I did. It kind of sucks." He shrugged, looking down as the kitten starting crawling up his chest, stopping to bat at his glasses. Alfred took them off with a sigh. "Aw, c'mon. I _just_ got these. Please don't break them, fluffball."

Arthur scooped up the kitten, smiling when it purred and settled into his arms. "Would you like to get dinner or something after this?"

"Sure. I know a good place pretty close to here." Alfred put his glasses back on, and Arthur tilted his head.

"Am I imagining things, or do you actually have an earring?"

"Huh?" Alfred reached up and felt his earlobe. "Oh, yeah. The hole was starting to close up, so…" He shrugged. "I used to constantly fidget with stuff during my class and bite my nails really bad. So I got my ear pierced when I turned eighteen, and whenever I felt like biting my nails or whatever, I'd play with this instead. Also, it does make me look pretty badass whenever I wear leather, so…" he trailed off.

Arthur shook his head. "And next you're going to surprise me by saying you're an avid fan of classical music."

"Well, I've always dreamed of hearing Mozart's Requiem in a cathedral in Vienna, but…" Arthur blinked a few times, and Alfred laughed. "Kidding. Just kidding. I don't really listen to classical music. I'm more of a modern music person."

"Modern music?"

"Twentieth century and up. Jazz, rock, all of that. Except disco. I don't do disco."

"Disco is pretty awful, there's no doubt about that."

"You said it."

Arthur jumped suddenly as the kitten dug its claws into his shirt, climbing up his front. "I think _somebody_ got bored," he muttered, prying it off.

"Here, I'll put him back where he goes."

Arthur passed the kitten to Alfred. "There you go."

"Come on, Freddy! Naptime for kitty." Alfred put the kitten away, scratching him behind the ears one last time. "Well, I'm done my shift here for the day. You?"

"Yes, I was just dropping off that other cat before I left."

"Cool. So, should we go get food?"

"Sounds like a plan."

They got sandwiches from a nice takeaway place Alfred remembered he used to stop by when he was in college if he got too busy to do anything for dinner, and Arthur asked Alfred if he wanted to come over to his place, since it was closer. Alfred accepted (duh), and when he got there, he was greeted by a very enthusiastic Will, who spent more time purring and getting under his feet than he did greeting Arthur. But Arthur seemed pretty used to it, just shrugging and saying, "If he gets in the way, just nudge him with your foot and tell him off."

"Okay. Go on now, Will. Shoo." When that didn't work, Alfred decided to say something he'd heard Arthur say often enough. "Sod off, you little bugger."

That actually worked, which made Alfred laugh and Arthur slightly embarrassed. "I didn't think I was _that_ bad," he murmured.

"Hey, whatever works."

When they sat at the kitchen table, Will jumped up as well, and Arthur rolled his eyes. "Off the table, you." He put the cat back on the floor. "Don't give me that look. You know bloody well you aren't allowed here while people eat. Out of the kitchen." Arthur pointed towards the living room, and Will pranced off haughtily, his tail held high.

When they were done eating, Alfred was helping Arthur clean up when the power suddenly went out. Arthur frowned. "Oh, well isn't this just bloody marvelous."

"Do you think it's just your house or the whole block?"

Arthur peeked out of the window and sighed. "Either all of my neighbours have backup generators, or it's just my house." He rolled his eyes. "I don't know why, but I have particularly sensitive circuit breakers. And I have no idea how to fix it. Typically I go down there and just flip switches until the lights go back on."

"Want me to try?"

"Sure. It's in the cellar."

"Okay." Arthur opened the door to the basement, and Alfred peeked down the stairs. "I think I'm gonna need a flashlight."

"Oh, right. Hang on a moment." Arthur went back to the kitchen, pulling a flashlight from the cupboard under the sink.

Alfred tilted his head in confusion. "Why…?"

"Because Will tries to eat it if I put it anywhere else."

"Oh. Okay." Alfred took the flashlight and went down the stairs, clicking it on as he went down the stairs. Apparently, Arthur's basement was purely for storage purposes and doubled as a laundry room, if the washer and dryer in the corner meant anything. And Alfred was reminded of how _creepy_ basements were when the lights were off. But there weren't any monsters down there, since he wasn't playing a horror game. That didn't stop him from jumping and looking over his shoulder when he thought he heard something behind him. Of course, there wasn't anything, he was just being a chicken again.

When he found the circuit board and flipped the switch that needed flipping, he heard Arthur call from upstairs, "Lights are back on!" and then breathed a little sigh of relief for no reason. Still, once he got back up the stairs, he shivered a little.

"Man I kept expecting something to like, jump out of the dark at me."

"Too many horror games?"

"Yeah. Too much Slender, to be specific."

"Pardon?"

"You know, Slenderman?"

Arthur tilted his head. "Is that the ridiculous urban legend about the man in the suit without a face?"

"Yep. Someone made a really creepy game based off of that, and… yeah. It's pretty intense."

Arthur scoffed. "He doesn't even have a face. How could it be scary?"

"Oh, you _really_ wanna know?" Alfred shook his head. "Unless you've got nerves of steel, it's pretty terrifying."

"Come off it. If it's just a game…"

"All right, go get your computer. We're doing this."

"We?"

"You're gonna play and I'm gonna watch so when you chicken out I can laugh."

Arthur put a hand on his hip and quirked an eyebrow at Alfred. "Fine. But I'll tell you, I'm tough to scare."

"We'll see about that."

Arthur got his laptop and set it up on the couch so Alfred could sit beside him. Just to creep him out further, Alfred turned the lights off. It definitely made it a helluva lot scarier. And, to his credit, Arthur didn't jumpscare easily. But _man_, did he cuss a lot whenever he thought he saw something. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—oh, never mind. Just a shadow."

"There's another note over there."

"Where?"

"On the wall."

Arthur made the character walk over to it, and he sighed. "I know he's going to be right behind me when I get this, but…" Arthur clicked on the piece of paper and let out a shaky breath when nothing happened. "Four out of eight? Oh, I'm definitely going to die."

"You're doing great! Keep on going."

"Am I imagining it, or is the flashlight getting dimmer?"

"Just keep on going."

"I don't like this."

"What, are you freaking out?"

"No." Arthur huffed. "I am absolutely fine, I'll have you know. Holy shit!"

"Run!"

"I can't, he's right there and it's—fuck, I died." Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "God, that was…"

"You did great for a beginner, seriously."

"Mmh. Turn the lights back on."

Alfred got up off the couch and turned the lights on with a grin. "Still not scared?"

"Not at all." Arthur put his laptop down and shook his head. "The atmosphere of the whole game is rather chilling, I'll give you that. But the animation is really quite crude."

"Well, whaddya expect from a free game?"

"True, quite true." Arthur shrugged leaning back into the couch, acting perfectly relaxed. Alfred smirked. Yeah, he was freaked. No one could be that tense and not be stressing out about something. But he didn't say anything, just stretching his arm over the back of the couch so his fingertips brushed Arthur's shoulder lightly. Arthur relaxed a little more, though he squinted suspiciously at the corner of the room for a second.

Alfred laughed. "See something over there?"

"Hmph." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Mmmrrooww!"

Will chose to appear at that moment and make his presence known quite loudly. Arthur jumped, grabbing onto Alfred and yelling, "Bloody motherfucking horsecocks!"

Alfred burst out laughing, unable to stop himself. "That's just the _cat_, Artie. Chill out."

Arthur froze, looking over at Will. "Oh. So it is. Will, you little bastard, I've told you not to sneak up on people! And you-" he paused, pinching Alfred's nose between his thumb and forefinger, "No laughing."

"Sorry. You just… your eyes were like, the size of dinner plates… sorry." He shook his head, grinning.

And when Arthur rolled his eyes and kissed him, Alfred felt like maybe he had actually found a decent balance after all. And though he really hadn't been intending for things to go this way when he first started it, he had just discovered what phase three of his plan to make Arthur stop being such a dick was: get Arthur to fall for him. Arthur took Alfred's glasses off and tilted his head to the side a bit, kissing him more deeply, and Alfred had a feeling that his plan was _definitely_ working. And it had turned out pretty well for him too.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Again, sorry this took me so long. Also, did you know that Microsoft Word will try to correct 'horsecocks' to 'horsebox?'_

_I'm not even kidding. It made me crack up._

_So yeah, thanks for all the amazing feedback, guys and gals! I actually don't know if I have any male readers (let's face it: young women make up the majority of the Hetalia shipping demographic), but I'll include them in here anyways. There are over a hundred followers of this story as of right now… it's really taken me by surprise. This story is just a ton of fun for me to write, and it really makes me smile when I see other people enjoying it too._

_As always, point out any little mistakes you see, and I'll get to fixing them right away!_

_Oh yeah, and prepare for angst up ahead. There's plenty more of this story to come, believe me. So, that's all for this little update. Don't forget to be awesome!_

_~lumaluma_


	7. I Want To Tell You

_Did I say I'd update fast? Whoops. Sorry. These past few months are proving busier than I expected they would. I wish I had more time to write, but I've been really busy lately. So much to do, so little time. As always, thanks for the awesome feedback. Reviews from you guys always make me smile like a total dork… yeah._

_Oh, just a quick note: in this chapter, Mathias is Denmark and Lukas is Norway. They don't yet have official names, so I gave them the names that our fandom seems to prefer._

_And quick warning for potentially (definitely) mature content up ahead! Skip over it if you don't like it._

* * *

Alfred wasn't an insecure person by nature. Sure, sometimes he looked at himself in the mirror, grimaced, and got motivated to go to the gym, but that was about it. He was pretty comfortable with himself most of the time. But now that he had been in an actual, somewhat serious relationship for a few months, he was starting to have his doubts about things.

Which was how he found himself at Matthew's one Saturday night, absent-mindedly tracing patterns on the kitchen table with his fingertip as his brother made them both hot cocoa.

"I still don't see why you won't wear a jacket," Matthew said with a sigh.

"My car has heating, it's fine."

"Yes, but… it's getting cold."

"So? I'm not a wimp."

"Whatever. So, what's going on with you?"

Alfred looked up, his finger pausing in its movements. "Huh?"

"You don't normally call before you come over. You just sort of barge in."

"Oh, yeah. Well… stuff's happening."

"No, really?"

"Matt… don't pull the passive-aggressive sarcastic crap right now."

"Okay, fine. What's happening?"

"So, uh… you know how me and Arthur have been going out for around three months?"

"What about it?"

"Well, yesterday it kind of hit me that this is the longest relationship I've ever had. The only one that comes close was the summer fling I had with that _really_ smoking hot lifeguard in California."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah. You still know his name?"

"He's my Facebook friend. I think he thought I was you."

"Oh. Makes sense. Anyways, so… yeah. Bobby. That was only two months. And mostly about sex and stuff."

"And what you have with Arthur isn't?"

"Nope. We actually talk about stuff and go on dates and all of that."

"And…?"

"It's kind of weirding me out, Matt."

Matthew shot Alfred a thoroughly unimpressed look. "Al. It's called dating. When you're in a relationship with someone, you often have things in common and-"

"Don't rant at me, I _know_ that! I just mean that I don't know what to expect from this whole relationship thing."

"How so?" Matthew sat down with their hot cocoa and passed Alfred a mug.

Alfred took the mug. "Thanks. Well, to start, I don't know how serious we're gonna be. Like, are we dating just for fun, or is it more?"

"What do you feel for Arthur?"

"I like spending time with him, I guess, and-"

Matthew shook his head. "I don't mean it like that. What do you _feel?_"

Alfred sighed, leaning on his hand. "That's just it. I dunno. I've never been in love or anything before, so I don't know what it's supposed to feel like. I don't wanna say those three little words, you know, tell him I love him and then be like, 'Whoops, never mind. My bad,' you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Just see how things play out, eh? You've only been together for a few months. Don't expect everything to be all lovey-dovey and perfect all the time."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's still weird, though. Whenever we hang out and whatever, it's totally casual. I'm not awkward and stuff anymore."

"You've gotten used to being around him. Congratulations." Matthew shrugged. "That's pretty normal. I used to be a nervous, stuttering wreck around Francis, and I'm over that now."

"Okay, good. So I'm normal."

"Well, I wouldn't say _normal_, but…" Matthew smiled, and Alfred punched him on the arm.

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Seriously, though. Don't stress about it too much. Relationships are weird and complicated sometimes."

Alfred rolled his eyes and hit his head against the table with a loud 'thunk'. "Duhhh… c'mon, Matt. Even I know that much."

Matthew poked the top of his head. "I'm being serious."

"Whatever. I'll just let things go how they go and see what happens."

"That's an excellent idea. Now drink your cocoa."

"Tryin' to get rid of me already?"

"Oh dear, you saw through my brilliant plan. Whatever shall I do? But no, actually. I don't have anything to do tonight." Matthew stood up, grabbing a plate off the kitchen counter. "Want to help me finish off these marshmallow treat things? Francis will have a _fit_ if he finds out I've been eating marshmallows. I swear, you'd think they were tiny demons or something, the way he goes on about them."

"Tiny, soft, sweet, _delicious_ demons."

"Exactly. Oh yeah, and don't you have book club next week?"

"Yeah, actually. And I'm hosting."

"Fun. Good luck with that."

"I don't think it'll be too bad, though. Unless Gilbert drinks too much… again…"

Matthew laughed. "Does he always get drunk?"

"Not always. Just if he gets bored."

"Well that's… interesting logic."

"Whatever he wants. As long as he doesn't puke or pass out, I'm fine with it."

"Francis said he grabbed someone's ass last time."

"Oh, yeah. Toris is pretty cool, but way too polite to say anything. He just kind of blushed and sat down. Gilbert said he looked like a girl from the back, so… something tells me Toris isn't gonna be wearing skinny jeans anymore."

Mathew shook his head. "I have a friend who gets called 'sir' a lot, since she has short hair and wears baggy clothes. Then she turns around and people realise she has huge boobs. Once, she pretended to be a guy anyways, and people looked at her like she was crazy. It was pretty funny."

"Hey, at least she has a sense of humor about it. So, what're you doing this weekend?"

"Not much. I've got a couple assignments due on Wednesday that I'm still working on. I'm volunteering down at the soup kitchen tomorrow, and then there's a few of us going out for dinner after that. But really, homework is my main priority right now."

"Fun…" Alfred sighed. "That's one thing about actually working that I don't miss."

"Yeah." Matthew rolled his eyes. "But I'm finally close to being done with it. How's work?"

Alfred grinned. "Oh, you know. It's kind of fun, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get promoted soon."

"Gilbert likes you that much, eh?"

"I guess. And no, I haven't had to suck anyone's dick. Well, no one in _my_ department, I should say."

Matthew laughed. "All the better."

They hung out for a while, just chatting until Matthew's roommates got home. Both of them were Scandinavian (or Nordic or whatever the hell the politically correct term is supposed to be. Blond white guys from where it snows a lot). One of them, like Gilbert, was loud and quite fond of drinking beer, and the other one was almost always looking for ways to hurt the beer-lover.

Matthew usually ignored what they got up to, unless it got really bad, which was when he'd step in, wielding a hockey stick or wooden spoon or T.V. remote. Whatever was handy and easy to hit people with, really. Alfred just thought the sexual tension between the two of them was hilarious. That night, Mathias (the beer drinker), was being particularly noisy. And Lukas looked about ready to strangle him. Alfred decided it would be a good idea to leave. "Hey, Matt? I'm gonna head home."

"You do that. Mathias, go to bed. You are _drunk_."

Alfred put his shoes on, looking over when he heard Mathias reply, "No I'm not… I'm just happy. Hey, hey, Lukas! Wanna hear my whale impression?"

"Shut up. And no."

"Too bad! Miiiooooeeeeeeuuuurrggghh—ow! What was that for?"

"I told you to shut up."

"Doesn't mean you get to punch me in the head, you dick!" Mathias yelled. Alfred suppressed a smirk, looking back and forth between the two men.

Lukas was glaring at Mathias. "I'll hang you from the ceiling fan with your tie next."

"Didn't know you were into that kind of stuff, ya kinky bastard." Mathias grinned cockily, waggling his eyebrows, and Lukas narrowed his eyes further, opening his mouth to speak when Matthew cut in, walking over to them and putting his hands on his hips.

"Okay you two. Enough. Break it up, I mean it."

"Mattie, you're no fun! You know I can take Lukas!"

"I don't want the neighbors complaining, and I don't want any broken bones, which _I'd _be dealing out. Bed, both of you. _Now._"

Mathias grimaced. "Ah, shit. Scary Canadian face." Alfred had been on the receiving end on Matthew's death glares, and he had to admit, he was good at making you feel like an icy, ice-covered ice cube filled with ice that he was about to smash.

Alfred waved, calling out, "Bye, Matt! Love ya."

Matthew turned around, smiling brightly. "Love you too! See you later." He turned back to Mathias, since Lukas had wisely left the room, glaring again. "Now, _you._ Go sober up or I'm dunking your head in the sink."

Alfred left, shaking his head. Matthew was a lot like their dad sometimes, despite how much he denied it.

…

That next Friday, Alfred had just finished setting up his apartment for book club (that mostly consisted of him making sure everything in his kitchen he didn't want eaten was stowed away) when someone buzzed the apartment. Gilbert and Ludwig, always perfectly on time. They fit the German stereotype in that sense. After that, people trickled in steadily, bringing food or drinks or nothing. Arthur didn't try to cook anything (which Alfred was _very_ grateful for), but he happily kissed Alfred hello when he arrived making Gilbert, Francis and Antonio wolf-whistle. Felix turned to his little group of buddies, apparently to gossip, and Kiku ignored it completely.

Alfred just rolled his eyes. "Is everyone here? 'Cuz I'm about to close and lock the door." When no one replied, he went ahead and closed the door. "Okay. Make yourselves at home, but don't raid the fridge. I have plans for the stuff in there." He sat down on the couch in between Gilbert and Arthur, the Englishman's hand automatically landing on his knee. It was something he'd gotten used to over the past few months. "Did Francis bring dessert?"

"Yeah," Gilbert replied. "He made a cake."

"Awesome. So, we're voting on a new book tonight, right?"

Arthur nodded. "I'm hoping for one book in particular, since I've been dying to read it for a long time now, but I won't pressure anyone to vote for it."

"No sappy romance novels, that's all I can say. And nothing _too_ freaky. I mean, _Slaughterhouse Five_ had some pretty weird parts… with the aliens and all… but I still really liked it."

Arthur sighed. "You do realise that the aliens are supposed to represent Billy Pilgrim's way of dealing with-"

"Nope," Alfred interrupted. "It's a weird sci-fi story, that's all. None of that symbolism B.S."

"You're not one for deep literary analysis."

"And proud of it. C'mon, reading too much into a story can ruin it and take away from what the author really meant in the first place. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar and all of that."

Francis smirked from his spot next to Gilbert. "Ironically, it was the famous Freud who said that."

"I know. Weird, right?" Alfred grabbed a handful of pretzels out of a bag on the coffee table, seeing Ludwig awkwardly leaning away from Feliciano, who was trying to rest his head on the German's shoulder while his brother Lovino glared at Ludwig like he was plotting to murder him. "You know," he said to Gilbert, "It's weird how both of our younger brothers are all socially incompetent and stuff."

Gilbert laughed. "Oh, yeah. Ludwig's borderline robotic some of the time. But it's great when he gets pissed off! You haven't heard him shout yet, right?"

"Nah, not yet. Should I?"

"Definitely. He made Feli over there cry once by yelling at him for being a ditz, and then he felt super guilty. I swear, he was moping for days."

"Are the two of them dating or whatever?"

"Ach, I don't know. Sometimes I think so, sometimes I think Feli's just really affectionate. Either way, Lovi hates my little bro."

"Yeah, I can tell. Matt should be glad I'm not like that with him. He's kind of a mega-klutz some of the time."

Alfred heard Francis sigh. "I know. I don't trust him with knives, simply because I fear for his safety. And for the integrity of my kitchen floor. There are some things he's _very_ coordinated at, but sometimes…" he shook his head.

Arthur looked over at the kitchen and pointed. "Didn't you tell people to stay out of the fridge?"

"Yeah, why?" Alfred looked where he was pointing. "Oh, not Kiku. I trust him with my food. See, he's just getting orange juice."

"Ah. Well, if everyone's settled…" Arthur cleared his throat. "Gather around, people!" When everyone was listening, Arthur asked, "As usual, does anyone have any major announcements to make?" There was no reply, so he shrugged. "All right then, moving on. This month's selection is between four books. _1Q84_, a sort of sci-fi novel, _The English Patient,_ a historical fiction set in the Second World War, _Neverwhere_, an urban fantasy set in London, and _The Kite Runner_, a story about the life of an Afghani man. They're all very interesting and very different. As always, vote for two of them."

This time, Alfred was prepared and actually knew what they were doing. So he put his hand up for the sci-fi one (because really, any book that made a direct reference to 1984 in the title had to be pretty ballsy), and then for _The English Patient_, mostly because it'd give him an excuse to see the movie, which was supposed to be good. And what do you know? That one won.

"_The English Patient_ it is. And don't cheat by just watching the film. But watch it as well, if you like." Arthur shrugged. "Well, that's that. Now, there's cake for dessert, and I believe Kiku brought something as well?"

The Japanese man nodded. "It's called mochi. Sweet rice balls." Alfred grinned. He knew mochi. Kiku had been practically addicted to the stuff when they were in high school, and Alfred had eaten enough of it to last him a lifetime. Though he had to admit it was pretty good. But hell, if Francis had made a cake, he was gonna go for that instead. The Frenchman opened the white pastry box he had brought, revealing a cake covered in chocolate ganache. Fancy.

Alfred hopped up off the couch. "Lemme grab a knife and some plates. Who all wants cake?" He counted twelve people who raised their hands, but then Feliks made a face and put his hand down.

"Never mind, I'm supposed to be on a diet. I can't fit into my booty shorts comfortably anymore, and it's devastating!"

Alfred turned away to roll his eyes. "Okay, eleven people? Well, shit. I don't have that many plates. Hope some of you guys don't mind eating out of bowls." Francis looked mildly scandalized, but no one else seemed to care. So Alfred brought over an assortment of plates, bowls, and mismatched forks. Like he cared about cutlery sets. "Here's the knife."

"Thank you." When Francis cut the cake, Alfred sighed internally, seeing that it was yellow cake. Dammit, nothing special. But when he sat back on the couch, took a bite, and tasted something fruity, he stopped and inspected it closely. It looked just like normal cake, but _wow_.

"Dude, I thought this was gonna be boring!"

Francis smirked. "It's almond-raspberry cake. I used raspberry _eau de vie_ to get the flavour without any of the colour."

Alfred took another bite. "So you're telling me the cake is a lie?" Gilbert snickered into his cake, Kiku rolled his eyes, but no one else seemed to get it.

"I suppose so…?" Francis replied, obviously confused.

"Come on, none of you guys play Portal?" Alfred looked around and sighed when everyone just looked at him blankly. "Bunch of noobs."

"They aren't as awesome as us," Gilbert supplied. Alfred just rolled his eyes, kind of disappointed.

As the evening was drawing to a close and people were starting to head home for the night, Alfred shot a quick glance at Arthur. Which maybe wasn't the best idea, considering the other man was stretching, arms above his head and shirt riding up _just_ enough for Alfred to catch a glimpse of the trail of hair leading below the waistband of his pants.

He caught Alfred staring and smirked, making Alfred look away and pretend he hadn't been doing anything. Arthur elbowed him lightly, murmuring, "Oh, come on. You can't just look at me like that and then ignore me."

"I wouldn't have to if people weren't here."

"Hmm… you have a point, unfortunately."

Alfred looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning close to Arthur and asking, nearly whispering, "You wanna spend the night here?"

"I don't have anything to wear to bed," Arthur replied, just as quietly.

"You won't need anything, trust me."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, speaking a little louder. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"That sounds _quite_ pleasant, if you ask me."

"Glad to hear it."

Now, if only people would hurry up and get the hell out… some people, like Kiku and Francis, seemed to notice that something had changed in the atmosphere of the room, and both left quickly, Kiku high-tailing it out of there and blushing a little. Francis just winked as he walked past, telling them to have an 'eventful' evening. Toni, on the other hand, sweet, happy, _sexually oblivious _Toni, stayed for a while, chatting with Gilbert, who Alfred could've sworn was only hanging around to make Alfred impatient. Dick. Oh, if only he wasn't Alfred's boss…

And Arthur, being a total tease, just _had_ to rest his hand on Alfred's inner thigh. Fuck.

When everyone was gone at last, Alfred giving Toni a quick hug before politely showing him the door (anything to get away from that frickin' teasing hand. And Arthur had even starting fucking using his bedroom eyes on Alfred. That was just plain unfair!), he closed the door and sighed. "Fucking _finally._"

"You said it."

Alfred sat back on the couch, glaring at Arthur. "Don't even start. You weren't helping, and you know it."

"How so?"

"Doing _this,_" Alfred said, running his hand up the inside of Arthur's leg, "Was _really_ distracting, and don't even pretend you weren't doing it on purpose. Tease."

"It's all a matter of self-control."

"Self-control can kiss my ass," Alfred muttered, cupping Arthur's crotch with one hand, placing his other hand on the back of the Englishman's neck, pulling him into a kiss.

Arthur twisted his hands into the front of Alfred's shirt when Alfred palmed his groin lightly, pulling back to murmur, "Now who's being a tease?"

"You started it, babe. I'm just returnin' the favor."

"Not if I can help it." Arthur pushed Alfred off, getting up off the couch and unbuttoning his shirt. Alfred was a little disappointed to see he was wearing an undershirt, but then Arthur tossed his shirt at Alfred's head, lowering his eyelids a little, and Alfred found he didn't really care. Arthur smiled in his devious way when Alfred dropped the shirt on the floor. "Come on, now. You're the one who asked me to stay, make it worth my while."

"You…"

"Yes?"

Alfred shook his head. "Coming up with smart-ass comebacks is way too hard right now."

"May I suggest a comeback of a different kind, since I can tell that's not the only thing that's hard for you right now? Or rather, has what I'm thinking of gotten hard for _me?"_

"You are unbelievable." Alfred shook his head, standing up.

"I'm almost out of witty comments, honestly."

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hips and pulled him forward, grinding their groins together. "Almost?"

"That's what I said, almost," Arthur replied, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck.

"So, what do you have left?" Alfred asked, nipping Arthur's lower lip lightly and smirking when the other man shivered slightly.

"Oh, fuck it. I don't know anymore."

"Good. C'mon." Alfred looped his fingers through Arthur's belt loops and guided him to the bedroom.

"So, how do you want to do this tonight?" Arthur asked once they were in Alfred's bedroom, undoing his belt slowly and popping the button on his pants.

"You tell me. You're the one actually staying instead of leaving me to jerk off alone, you get to choose tonight."

"How generous of you." Arthur shimmied out of his pants and kicked his socks off. "Now hurry up and take your clothes off."

"You really are out of witty comments tonight, aren't cha?"

Arthur sat on the bed. "Yes, I know. Now really, hurry up or I'll start taking care of this myself." He gestured to the tent in his boxer briefs. Alfred decided there was only a fifty-fifty chance that he was actually joking. Not worth it.

So he pulled his shirt off in the sexiest way he could (sure, glasses kind of got in the way of that, but he was about to take them off anyways, so whatever), kicked off his jeans, and sat on the bed, pulling Arthur towards him for a kiss. "You decided how you wanna do this yet?"

"Maybe." Arthur lay back on the bed, hooking his legs around Alfred's hips and pulling him in, running a finger down his navel. "Get the rest of your damn clothes out of the way and fuck me."

Alfred was more than happy to comply. He pulled his underwear down and yanked Arthur's off before taking off his glasses and rooting around in his bedside table, getting out his lube and a condom. "You ready?"

Arthur picked up the condom and tossed it back into Alfred's bedside table. "Now I am. You don't need to use that tonight. I trust you."

That was new. Alfred realized just then that he had never in his life had sex without a condom, not wanting to get anything nasty. So Arthur trusting him like that was pretty awesome. Not to mention all his friends had always told him that sex was _so_ much better without one… he noticed Arthur looking at him impatiently.

"Do you want me to get myself ready?"

"Uh… yeah." Not only was that a great way to cover up the fact that he'd been distracted, Alfred always found it _really_ hot to see Arthur press his fingers into himself, arching his back and biting his lip when he found his good spot.

His eyelids fluttered a little and he let out a quiet gasp, moaning, "Ohh… _Al…_"

"You ready, babe?"

"Nnh… almost. Just a little more…"

Alfred slicked up his cock in the meantime, watching every little movement of Arthur's fingers, watching how the muscles in his neck and chest tensed and relaxed, watching his abs clench as he gasped for breath, watching his cheeks get steadily pinker. Arthur always blushed when he got really turned on, Alfred had learned, and he found it only made him look even better. He thumbed the head of his cock lightly and moaned, surprised when Arthur spread his legs a little further, like it was a reflex or something.

Arthur pulled his fingers out and beckoned Alfred. "Hurry, I need-"

"I know, babe." Alfred got over him and pressed the head of his cock against Arthur's entrance, kissing him on the forehead. "Ready?"

"Yes."

Alfred slowly moved his hips forward, and he couldn't help but drop his head onto Arthur's chest and moan. "Holy _shit,_ Artie… you're so _tight_."

It was even better than usual. Hell, if this was what he'd been missing, he understood why his friends made such a fuss out of it. Arthur felt even tighter and hotter than before, and he wondered if it felt different for Arthur too, because he was already biting his lip and scrunching up his eyebrows like he was _that_ close to coming, his hands gripping Alfred's biceps tightly.

He breathed in deeply for a moment before relaxing, his hold on Alfred's arms loosening a little. "Go. Move."

Alfred nodded, rocking his hips gently, his eyes almost rolling back in his head because holy _fuck_, that was good. And Arthur always had a really awesome sex face, his eyes got so dark and intense that sometimes it was hard for Alfred to actually look at him, but when they did lock eyes, it always made him shiver in a really good way.

Arthur put a hand over his eyes suddenly, his whole body shuddering, and he stifled a groan. "God, I can't… it's too much."

Alfred pulled Arthur's hand back down. "Hey, I want to see you." He thrust faster, deeper, trying not to lose control. He was surprised when Arthur's eyes met his for only a second before he moaned and looked away.

"I can't. Al, just… _please!_"

"I know, babe. I know."

Arthur's hands slid up to Alfred's shoulders and he lifted himself up a bit, Alfred leaning down to kiss him. He wished he could touch Arthur more; it just wasn't enough like this. Struck with a sudden idea, he pulled Arthur to him and leaned back so Arthur was on top of him, keeping his cock inside of Arthur the whole time. The Englishman arched his back, crying out and holding onto Alfred tightly.

He shivered, dropping his head onto Alfred's shoulder and rolling his hips slightly. "Don't stop."

Alfred helped Arthur lift his hips up and down, closing his eyes for a moment. Damn, this was even better than before. He bit his lip to hold back a moan. "This good?"

Arthur barely nodded, still clinging to him. Alfred kissed Arthur's neck, one of his hands slipping around the Englishman's front to grip his erection, making Arthur moan. He lifted his head up to kiss Alfred, and sure, it was messy and could barely be called kissing, but it was good. They moved together, Alfred thrusting up just as Arthur moved his hips back down, the rhythm slowly getting sloppy until they were pretty much just mindlessly rutting together, but it felt so damn _good_. And Arthur was gasping for breath each time he lifted himself up, his eyes shut, and _fuck_ when he opened his eyes, he looked at Alfred like he needed this more than anything else, and Alfred could barely breathe for a second, trying to hold back from the edge for as long as possible, thrusting up as deeply as he could and pumping Arthur's cock.

Was Arthur gonna be okay with him coming inside? Because if he wasn't, he needed to say or do something about it, and fast. But Arthur didn't, just clinging to Alfred even tighter, resting his head on Alfred's shoulder and moaning, "Al…"

Alfred felt it reverberate through his chest and he bit his lip. Oh god, he was almost there. He could tell Arthur was as well, how his eyebrows scrunched together and how he cried out every time either of them moved. Alfred really couldn't hold on any longer, so he pulled Arthur down onto his cock hard and fast, finally letting go. Arthur moaned, tipping his head back and coming all over Alfred's chest, so fucking beautiful that it literally took Alfred's breath away.

He let go of Arthur's cock, closing his eyes for a second. Damn. Arthur took Alfred's face in his hands and kissed him, Alfred barely kissing back, he was still too busy trying to catch his breath. He lay back on the bed, pulling Arthur with him, thinking that he probably should get up and grab a couple of towels or something if they weren't going to hop in the shower. Arthur pushed Alfred's bangs out of his eyes, smiling at him.

Alfred smiled back, murmuring, "Not sure if I should just lie here and pant for half an hour or ask if that was as good for you as it was for me."

"I'd have to agree with you there." Arthur laid his head on Alfred's chest, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against Alfred's sternum. After a couple minutes, he said, "You know, you only ever call me 'babe' or 'baby' when we're having sex."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Alfred shrugged. "I didn't notice."

"I just noticed tonight." Arthur smiled. "Probably the last mildly intelligent thought I had this evening."

"Do you mind it?"

"Not at all."

"Hey," Alfred murmured, resting a hand on the back of Arthur's neck, "I have a quick question."

Arthur tilted his head up a bit, resting his chin on Alfred's chest. "I'm listening."

"When we first started going out, you know how it took us like, a month to actually sleep together?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Did you have a reason for that? I mean, it was pretty obvious we both wanted to _way_ before then."

Arthur shrugged. "I liked you on a deeper level than just wanting to get into your bed, and I wanted to make sure the feeling was mutual. It's as simple as that, really."

Alfred could've sworn he blushed up to his ears. Just hearing Arthur say that… it was more than he had hoped for. It made him feel strangely warm inside and bashful and—hang on just a fucking minute. Wasn't that how every stupid romantic comedy he'd ever watched described being in love? Hell, of all the ways to have that kind of 'Aha!' moment…

He realized Arthur was waiting for him to say something, and that he'd been off in la-la land. "Oh, um… that's something I didn't really think about." He felt like smacking himself in the face for that. _Really _eloquent, Al. That deserved a Pulitzer Prize.

Arthur just smiled at him and sat up, stretching his neck. "I think I'll go shower."

"I'll come with you."

They got back in bed afterwards, since they had this unspoken agreement that they'd spend the night together after having sex. Arthur had borrowed a pair of Alfred's boxers and an old t-shirt as pajamas, and he kissed Alfred quickly before turning off the lamp. "Good night, love."

"G'night." Alfred closed his eyes before opening them again quickly. Should he say something? "Hey, Artie?"

"Yes?"

"I… do you want me to make omelets for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Sure. That sounds great."

"Okay, just wondering."

Alfred closed his eyes, deciding that telling someone you loved them when you were both half asleep was probably a bad idea. Especially if you only thought that maybe you loved them. He had plenty of time to figure it out for sure, so he wouldn't be feeling all hung up about it or anything. Matthew was right, like he always was. Alfred just had to be cool and let things happen how they'd happen.

But still, he wished he could say something.

* * *

_Again, sorry for being so late! I've been so busy with life that writing's had to take the backseat for a little while. Hopefully that'll be fixed this month._

_In other news, I fucking __hate__ the DMV with a burning passion. That is all._

_As always, thanks for reading, and point out any mistakes you see!_


	8. Arthur My Dear

_Okay, okay, this took me forever. I know. In my defense, I had finals and graduation ceremonies and parties and end-of-the-year concerts/recitals. No more high school, but now I've got planning for university to finish. University of Toronto, here I come! …in three months. _

_Anyways, now that I'm off my mini-hiatus, I can get back to work on this. And since summer is here, I'll have much more time to write! No more month-long waits (or two month-long, whoops) for an update. _

_Quick little note: Michelle = Seychelles in this chapter._

_And I know I changed the song title for this chapter, but I thought it fit the story better (if you haven't noticed yet, all of the chapter titles and the story titles are Beatles songs), plus I really love the song "Martha My Dear". Anyways... on with the story!_

* * *

"Okay, let's split up. Kiku, go in the back way, I'll drop in from above, and Gil, just barge in there, guns-a-blazing."

"Right. Let's splatter some Russian grey matter!"

"Tell me when, Alfred. I'm ready to go."

The three men sat perched on the couch, Xbox controllers clenched in death grips as they went about their battle plan.

"Aw, fuck! There's a guy in the corner I didn't see." Alfred sighed as his character re-spawned. "Shit."

"Kiku and I are kicking some serious ass over here, Al. Hurry and join the party!"

"Yeah, I can see. I'm getting back over there. What's the rest of our team doing?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Screwing around and teabagging corpses."

"Ugh. Why do we get all the twelve-year-olds?"

"Because we have no luck. But we've got killer skills!"

When all the opponents were dead, Gilbert and Alfred high-fived. "Way to go!" Alfred punched Kiku on the arm. "Great job, sniper dude. Hey Gil, got any more beer in the fridge?"

"_Ja_, of course! Help yourself. Bring me one while you're at it."

Alfred hopped up off the couch. "Don't start another match until I'm back. Oh yeah, did I tell you guys yet? I finally got Arthur to play C.O.D. with me the other day."

"What? When?"

"After book club last Friday."

Gilbert laughed. "I was expecting something else, the way you guys were looking at each other." Alfred tossed a can of beer at Gilbert's head, which he deftly caught with a grin and a wink. "Come on, bro. Toni was probably the only one who _didn't_ notice."

"Yeah, yeah. We actually played Saturday morning, if you must know." Alfred sat back down on the couch.

"What, he stayed over to make you breakfast?"

"Oh, god no. I wouldn't trust Artie to make anything non-toxic. Except he can actually make stew… probably because he doesn't have to do anything except toss it all in a pot." Alfred popped the tab on his can and took a sip of beer. "We just always stay over at each other's places."

Gil shrugged. "That's nice, I guess. If you like cuddling and shit. I'm more the kind of guy who tells people to get their shit and leave."

"Well, aren't _you_ nice," Kiku mumbled.

Alfred elbowed him in the ribs. "Look at you, being all passive-aggressive! Who are you, my brother?" Kiku just rolled his eyes. "Seriously," Alfred insisted, "He's such a namby-pamby, passive-aggressive, sarcastic asshole. Some of the time, I mean. I was trying to talk to him about something actually kind of important, and do you know what he says? He just goes, 'siblings don't talk about their sex lives, Al,' and then he gives me his disapproving look."

Gilbert snickered. "Well, I get where he's coming from. But what were you trying to tell him?"

"That I'm thinking maybe I'm in love with Arthur. I dunno. I feel different around him than with other people, I don't get tired of hanging out with him, and everything just feels… better, I guess, than it did with other guys. More relaxed and stuff." He shrugged. "And I mean yeah, the sex is great and all, but that's not the most important thing."

Kiku stared blankly at the television screen. "I'm starting a new match."

"Go ahead, dude." Gilbert picked his controller back up. "Looking at him, you wouldn't think…"

"Yeah, I know. And it's kind of funny, 'cuz everyone says the English are supposed to suck in bed."

"I heard about that. But they also say Germans are bad, so they don't know what they're talking about." Gilbert took a sip of beer, then tilted his head. "Okay, maybe with guys like my baby bro, but I wouldn't know. All I know is that with the Spanish and the French, they aren't kidding. Toni and Francis… jeez. We used to live together, the three of us, and let me tell you, there's a reason Francis is such a flirt. All he has to do is pull the 'I am French!' card and people seriously fall all over him."

"And this is the guy my little Mattie's dating?"

"Well, he's actually decent if you're in a relationship with him… not that I'd know or anything…"

Alfred looked away from the game, watching Gilbert blush up to his ears. It was pretty funny, since he was so pale that whenever he blushed even a little bit, he went _bright_ red. What was up with their little trio of friends, anyways?

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Anyways, it's good you're happy with Arthur and all lovey-dovey and shit."

"Hey, I'm just hoping we're both feeling like this, to be honest."

"You'd better talk to Kiku or Francis for that one. Arthur and Francis are sort of drinking buddies, and it used to be that half the time, they'd end up beating the shit outta each other, since Francis can't keep his opinion to himself and Arthur's pretty short-tempered."

"I know. You should've heard him yelling at the Xbox… oh, it was great. But hey, Kiku! You got any news for me?"

"Not really." Kiku didn't even look away from the television screen. "And if you want to know what Arthur's thinking, you should ask him yourself, not me."

"But… but… that's so awkward! And I don't want to fuck things up. Seriously."

"I am not your relationship counselor."

"Fine, be a dickwad." Alfred huffed. "Maybe I _should_ talk to him. But I seriously don't know what to say… I sort of rant and forget what I'm trying to say or I end up looking like a total dork and go way off topic."

Gilbert shrugged. "As long as it doesn't affect your working relationship, do whatever you want to do."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, Mr. Boss-man. Oh, and speaking of work-"

"No office talk," Gilbert interrupted, holding a finger up. "I refuse to deal with work shit on the weekend."

"I just wanna make sure the meeting's on Wednesday."

"Oh. Yeah, it is."

"At ten?"

"Unless some technological catastrophe strikes, then yes."

"Meaning unless Eliza-whatsit comes and yells at you again?"

Gilbert elbowed Alfred in the ribs. "Hey, not funny."

"Yes, funny. She scares you."

"Only when she gets that murderous rage look in her eyes. I mean, she's sweet and smiley with the rest of you guys, and when she sees me, it's like she turns into a demon bitch! God, I feel bad for her boyfriend… if she even _has_ one. I don't think any guy would put up with that shit."

Alfred laughed. "Ah, the benefits of being gay…"

"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in, why don't you? Bah, fuck!" Gilbert's character died, and he threw the controller aside. "Gah, I'm done. My normally awesome dodging skills are sucking today. Finish the round, you two."

…

That Wednesday, for the first time in months, Alfred got paged to Arthur's office. He found Arthur sitting behind his desk, glaring at the computer. "Stupid bloody piece of-"

"Watch your language there, Artie! This is work."

Arthur looked up, his irritated frown morphing into a smile when he saw Alfred standing at his door. "There you are. I need help."

"Well, I figured, since you paged me and all. What's up?"

"It isn't letting me open a program I _really _need to use."

"Which one?"

"Adobe whatsit. The pdf file thing."

"Oh, that. Lemme see." Arthur scooted away from his desk, spinning around in his chair.

"See for yourself."

Alfred tried opening it, and sure enough, as soon as he clicked on the icon, a window opened and then crashed, producing an error message. "Program number blahblahblah has been corrupted by blahblahblah. Well, that's great. Looks like you've got yourself a virus. I hope you've backed up all your important files, 'cuz I'm gonna have to do a full sweep of your computer."

"Do what you have to, I've got all the necessary things on my flash drive."

"Have you used it at all since this started happening?"

"No, of course not." Arthur rolled his eyes. "I know better than that."

"Good. I'm still gonna scan that next, though." Alfred set up a security scan and got it running. "M'kay, just let that do its magic. How'd you get that virus anyways? Watching porn?"

Arthur scoffed. "Hardly. I believe there was a file sent to me in an email that caused it."

"Oh boy. You're gonna have to show me who all that was sent to, so I can track it down and prevent anything from crashing. We _really_ don't want that."

"Agreed." Arthur spun around in his chair again. "How long is the scan going to take?"

"A while. I'm supposed to stay and supervise in case anything funny happens. Viruses are tricky little bastards."

"And you're telling me to watch my language." Arthur raised his eyebrows at Alfred, who shrugged.

"Hey, you're supposed to be all professional and stuff. I'm allowed to be crude. C'mon, we I.T. guys are like the class clowns of the whole office. You guys up here in Management are the nerds and band geeks. Human Resources is full of the bitchy gossips."

"Are you comparing this to an American high school?"

"Sort of. Seriously, when you go to the cafeteria, it's like that. There're all the little groups of people who sit together and talk and stuff. We're breaking clique rules, technically."

"Oh dear. Whatever shall we do?" Arthur rolled his eyes, and Alfred laughed.

"Yeah, it's not a big deal. Besides, Gil's pretty much the only one here who knows. But if you were like, my boss or something, we'd have a problem."

"Well, good thing I'm not."

They sat around and talked for a while, playing catch with Arthur's stress ball, which he explained he kept in his desk for conference calls, when he'd get bored and need something to occupy him. Arthur's computer made a happy little sound, and Alfred checked it. "Scan's done. Looks like we might've gotten it under control. Now, show me that email."

Once Alfred had figured out whose computers he needed to go check, he wrote the names down and got ready to get them fixed. "All righty, time for me to go. See ya later, Artie."

"Good luck."

Alfred grinned and kissed Arthur's forehead quickly, making him turn bright pink and shove Alfred lightly. Alfred laughed. "Don't need it. I got this." He winked at Arthur before leaving, closing the door behind him to hear Arthur mutter something about someone being a bloody buffoon. It just made Alfred smile as he went about his work.

During their monthly meeting that afternoon, Alfred found himself sort of drifting off and thinking about Arthur… like how no matter what, he _always_ wore socks to the breakfast table. He could be sitting there in just a bathrobe or boxers with his tea and the day's newspaper, but he'd always be wearing socks… it was kind of cute and bizarre at the same time.

Alfred was snapped out of his thoughts when Gilbert said his name, and he realized they were talking about promotions and bonuses. Well, what a time to doze off… jeez.

"So, as I was saying, right now there are only two of you I'm considering for promotions. Alfred and Chris. The rest of you, you gotta work harder if you want to work your way up here!" A few people grumbled, but Alfred and Chris just shared a quick fist-bump of victory.

Alfred bumped into Arthur on his way out of the office, and told him the good news. Arthur smiled. "That's excellent. But I suppose I won't be seeing you during the day anymore?"

"Probably not. I'll try to get Gil to let me work with you people, though. It's fun. And hey, if I get to make more money, it's worth not having to constantly fix printers and other stupid stuff."

"Fair enough." Arthur stopped at his car. "Well, here's where I leave you. I'll see you tomorrow, love."

"Yep. See ya!"

Arthur opened the car door, tossing his computer bag onto the passenger seat. "Come over this weekend, will you?"

"You betcha." Alfred stopped walking, leaning on the hood of Arthur's car for a moment. "I've got dinner with Matt on Friday, but that's it."

"Your monthly catch-up night, is it?"

"Yeah. He texted me yesterday, and apparently he's got a _lot _to talk about this time. Something about bitches screwing things up, so I bet it's something actually kind of serious. He doesn't normally complain about things directly."

"I see. Well, just call or text me whenever you're free."

"I will!"

…

Little did Arthur know, Alfred had sneakily reprogrammed his phone's ringtone to be something completely different than it originally was… Arthur hadn't changed his PIN since Alfred reset it for him all those months ago.

So he decided to call Arthur that Saturday, just to hear his reaction. And, sure enough, Arthur let him know as soon as he answered the phone.

"Alfred, what the ruddy _hell_ did you do to my phone?"

Alfred laughed. "What, you don't like it?"

"No! What song is that, anyways?"

"Classic Rickrolling, Artie. Never Gonna Give You Up! I coulda made it Kate Bush or something."

"Good god, that would have been horrid."

"Yeah. Ever heard her song 'Wuthering Heights'? My English teacher made us listen to that when we read the book in class. The WTF factor on it is off the _charts_, man."

"I believe you. Anyways, why were you calling?"

"Checkin' to see if now's a good time for me to come over."

"Oh, of course." There was a pause, and a quiet meow before Arthur sighed. "Will, bugger off. Just because I'm in the kitchen doesn't mean you're getting anything to eat. Come over whenever you like."

"Who, me or the cat?"

"You, obviously."

"Awesome. I'll be right over!"

"See you soon, love."

…

When Alfred got to Arthur's, the Englishman let him in and kissed him quickly. "I had just gotten back from a jog when you called, so I'm afraid I'm quite sweaty."

"I was wondering what was up with the track shorts. Not that I'm complaining or anything!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't get too used to it, I'm going to shower and change into something decent."

Before Alfred could reply that he'd really rather not have Arthur change into something decent (because seriously, he looked _good_ in track shorts), the cat appeared and sat on Alfred's foot, purring.

"Hey, Will." Alfred picked him up, scratching him under the chin lightly. "I guess I'll entertain the cat while you shower, then."

"You do that."

So while Arthur was in the shower, Alfred lay on the living room floor and tossed a little jingly ball around for Will, who actually seemed to know how to play fetch, and would always bring it back for Alfred to throw again, prancing around with his tail waving in the air. Eventually, though, he decided to curl up on Alfred's chest and nap, purring just slightly.

The doorbell rang, and Alfred sighed. Even if it was just the UPS guy or Girl Scouts or whatever, he probably needed to answer it. So he tucked Will under his arm, waking him up in the process, and went to open the door. It wasn't Girl Scouts or anything, but a middle-aged couple.

"Hi," Alfred said, "Can I help you?"

The woman spoke up first, asking "Is this Mr. Arthur Kirkland's residence?"

She was British, and looked a lot like Arthur, Alfred noticed. Same eyes and hair. The man with her had almost the same face as Arthur, too. "Yeah," he replied. "It is. I'm guessing you need to talk to Arthur?"

"Yes, if it's no trouble."

Alfred let them in, setting Will down. "Sorry if you're allergic or anything…"

"Oh, no. That's fine."

He showed them to the living room before going over to the bathroom and knocking in the door. "Art, you done in there?"

"Almost, why?"

"There's some people here to see you."

"Oh, bugger it all… just a minute."

Alfred went back to the living room and sat down in an armchair. The man, who hadn't said a word so far, asked, "Do you live here as well, or…?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm just visiting." Will jumped up in Alfred's lap and resumed his napping, and Alfred smiled. "Though I'm pretty sure Will wishes I lived here. So, uh… how do you know Arthur?"

"We're his parents." The woman took her husband's hand.

"Yeah, I figured, 'cuz you look like him and all that."

Arthur came into the living room a second later, running a hand through his damp hair. "Sorry that took so long, I was-" he stopped as soon as he saw his parents and blinked for a couple seconds before pointing to the door. "Out. Get out of my house."

Arthur's father crossed his arms, muttering to his wife, "I _told_ you this would happen."

Mrs. Kirkland stood up. "Arthur, I didn't come all this way just to have you say less than ten words to me."

"Oh, really? The way you acted the last time I saw you, I thought that was _exactly_ what you would've wanted. How the hell did you even find me?"

"Your cousin," Mr. Kirkland supplied.

Arthur sighed. "Figures. I wondered why she wanted to send me Christmas presents so badly." He turned back to his mother and glared at her. "If all you've come here to do is to rant at me like the last time, then you can go ahead and march right back to the airport. I think you made it perfectly clear how much you despise everything about me."

Alfred was just sitting there, mildly petrified, looking back and forth between Arthur and his parents. "What do you-?"

Mrs. Kirkland interrupted him. "I came to talk to you about Michelle."

"Aw, bloody hell, woman!" Arthur swore. "That isn't-"

"She still hasn't gotten over what you did to her."

"I didn't do _anything_ to her!"

"You led her on."

"I did nothing of the sort. She got it into her pretty little head that we were going to get married, and everyone else played along with it." Arthur pointed at his mother. "Don't you dare blame _me_ for something _you _caused."

"You two were together for six years, what else was I supposed to think? And I absolutely did not encourage you to be…" she trailed off for a second, looking guilty. "That is, I mean…"

Arthur shook his head. "See? You did come here to rant at me after all."

"No, I didn't!"

Arthur's father stood up. "That's enough out of both of you. Arthur, sit down and calm yourself. Alice, remember what you told me the whole point of our visit was."

Arthur sat down in an armchair next to Alfred with a sigh. "Fine then. Do tell me what the purpose of your visit is supposed to be."

Mrs. Kirkland cleared her throat, sitting back down. "I came to inform you that Michelle is getting married soon, but that she had still not completely gotten over the relationship the two of you had."

Arthur closed his eyes. "I've spoken to her about the matter and have apologised in every way I can. What else is there to do? Or is there something you want to know?"

"Why did you do it?"

Arthur opened his eyes and sighed. "Because I knew I couldn't let you know about… me. I knew you wouldn't accept my sexuality, and believe me, I tried my very hardest to change, but I couldn't. And I knew that if I didn't show any interest in girls that you'd suspect something, what with Ian and Scott constantly bringing home new girlfriends." Arthur rolled his eyes. "So I found a girl whose presence I could stand for long periods of time, and I pretended to love her."

"For six years," Arthur's father added.

"…yes." Arthur sighed. "I never said it was the best plan, did I? I never expected Michelle to actually fall in love with me, especially since I could barely bring myself to kiss her. You have no idea how relieved I was when she told me she wanted to save herself for marriage."

Mr. Kirkland crossed his legs. "She never knew about you, did she?"

"I couldn't tell her. Not if I wanted to keep my cover. She wasn't particularly homophobic, but I knew she wouldn't stand for being a cover-up for the man she had fallen in love with. And sure, I was a good boyfriend. I remembered her mother's birthday, surprised her with flowers occasionally, and whenever she wanted to complain about something, I was there to listen. For me, it was almost like we were just friends, and I loved her like a sister, nothing more. But kissing her felt like that, too."

Arthur's mother nodded. "You never were a particularly affectionate couple."

"I know. I had boyfriends of my own on the side, and it's not exactly something I'm proud of, but I don't really regret it either. I kept up appearances for you people, and I could be myself around my friends. I was leading a kind of double life, I suppose. But I knew I'd have to tell you eventually, and since then, I've stopped lying to myself and other people. When I moved here, I started my life over." Arthur looked over at Alfred for a moment and smiled. "I'm much happier now, as well. I've been myself, and no one else. No more putting on airs. And I'm sorry, but the Arthur you knew back then wasn't really me. That was depressed, lying, self-hating, scared Arthur. Now I'm just… Arthur."

Mrs. Kirkland starting crying suddenly, surprising everyone (including the cat, who hid in Alfred's sweater for a moment). Mr. Kirkland looked worried. "Alice?"

"Mother?"

"I'm sorry, I just…" she trailed off again, wiping her eyes. "I've been so angry at you and at myself for no reason these past few years, and…"

"That's not your-"

"Of course it's my fault! You remember what I said to you, I _know_ you do!"

Arthur looked down at his feet. "Yes, I remember. It hurt. It still does sometimes."

His mother shook her head. "And worst of all, I actually meant it."

"I know." Arthur stood up and walked over to the couch, pulling her into a hug. "It's all right, Mum.

"No it isn't! I don't blame you for just walking out and leaving us all behind after that. And I'm sorry, Art. I'm so, so sorry. All those years, if I had known, I never would've said those things. You're still my baby, and I love you."

"I love you too. Don't beat yourself up about it, now. I never hated myself because of the things you said. I always had people who were there for me." He kissed her on the top of the head. "Really, it's okay. I'm happy now, and that's all that matters."

"I suppose," Mrs. Kirkland murmured.

"Now then." Arthur turned around, looking at Alfred, who was still just sitting there with Will on his lap, completely unsure of what he was supposed to do. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that, Al. If you couldn't tell, these are my parents. And Mum, Dad, this is Alfred. He's my boyfriend."

Arthur's mother looked surprised, but Mr. Kirkland just shrugged. "I figured." He got up off the couch to shake Alfred's hand. "Edmond Kirkland. It's nice to meet you."

Alfred stood up and deposited the cat on the armchair carefully. "Alfred F. Jones. And likewise." Alfred decided it'd probably be a good idea to shake Arthur's mother's hand as well. "Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Kirkland."

"Please, call me Alice."

Arthur patted his mother on the back. "How long are you here for?"

"A few more days."

"Well then, I propose that tomorrow we all go out for lunch together and talk, all right? I'll take you someplace nice. Just give me a call when it's best for you." He pulled a scrap of paper out of one of his pants pockets, and his mother passed him a pen. He scribbled his number quickly and gave the paper and pen back to his mother. "There you go."

"Should we leave you two?" Mr. Kirkland (Edmond?) asked.

"Unless you have something else you need to talk to me about right away…"

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." Arthur's father hugged him. "It's good to see you again, Arthur. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Dad."

"And goodbye to you as well, Alfred."

Alfred waved politely. "See you later, I guess."

Arthur walked his mother and father to the door, and when he closed it behind them, he sighed. "Well, of all the things to happen on a Saturday afternoon… I didn't expect that."

"Who's Michelle?" Alfred just blurted it out without thinking.

"My ex-girlfriend." Arthur sighed. "I know, I know. Let me explain." He sat down on the couch, and Will jumped up to sit in his lap. Arthur ran a hand through the cat's fur. "She wasn't really my girlfriend, at least not from my point of view. You see, my mother was quite homophobic when I was growing up. She used to pray every day that none of us would turn out like that. Obviously, that didn't quite work. Dad was always fairly indifferent to the matter, but Mum… well, the day civil unions were first proposed in the UK, she claimed everything was going to hell. It wasn't a happy day in our household. And when I first really figured out that I wasn't like everyone else, I was horrified. I thought of myself as something freakish and disgusting, and every single day I tried my hardest to change. When it became clear that it wasn't about to happen, I more or less sunk into depression for quite some time. Until I met Michelle. She was always so happy and bubbly, and I thought I could use her."

Alfred raised his eyebrows, and Arthur cringed.

"I know it was a bad idea, but it seemed logical at the time. Of course, all sorts of _terrible_ ideas seem like good ones when you're sixteen. By the time I realised what I had done, it was too late. Everyone already expected us to get married. Especially once I told them I was getting transferred to America."

"They thought you were gonna bring her with you, huh?"

"Precisely. I had absolutely no intention of moving Michelle to America with me, though, and I had to tell my family that. So I waited until just a couple nights before I left, when the family was having a sort of goodbye party for me. I stood up to get their attention, and more or less blurted out that I was leaving and not taking Michelle with me, because I didn't love her. I _couldn't_ love her, and that was simply the truth. When everyone looked at me blankly, I realised I'd literally have to come out and say I, so I did. I told my entire, quite devoutly Christian, conservative family that I was gay. Michelle started crying, and most everyone just sat there in silence until my mother started yelling." Arthur sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. "She told me it was a good thing I was leaving, that she never wanted to see me again, I had disgraced the family name, I wasn't her son anymore… it wasn't pretty. I left before she started throwing things at me, luckily. It wasn't nice, leaving home when almost all of my family hated me and I didn't know anyone here, but I decided I'd start over from scratch. No more pretending, no more lying. It was actually refreshing, knowing I didn't have to hide anything anymore."

Alfred waited for a moment, making sure Arthur was done. It definitely wasn't something he liked to talk about, that much was clear. When he determined that yes, Arthur was done talking, and yes, he was obviously upset, he pulled Arthur into a hug and kissed the top of his head. "I'm sorry, babe. I get why you didn't bring this up earlier."

Arthur shrugged. "I've never told anyone else, to be honest."

"Yeah. I can tell why. That… really sucks."

Arthur relaxed in Alfred's arms, leaning on him a little more than he normally did. "Sorry you had to see all of that, I didn't think-"

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault. I mean, you can't help who you are, and at least you were honest about all of it." Alfred felt like he needed to do something other than just sit there like a total idiot, so he tilted Arthur's chin up and kissed him. Arthur leaned into the kiss more than usual, and when they pulled away to breathe, before he could stop himself, Alfred found himself saying, "I love you."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat for a moment before he squeezed Alfred lightly and whispered, "I love you too."

They sat there for a moment, just staring at each other, Arthur worrying his lower lip with his teeth and Alfred wiggling his feet slightly in his socks. Then they both leaned in at the same time, when a loud, protesting, "MEOW!" came from Will, who pushed himself in between the two of them and sat on Alfred's lap, looking up at Arthur defiantly, as if to say, 'Mine.'

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well, isn't _this_ an interesting development."

Alfred scooped Will up with one arm and cupped Arthur's cheek with his free hand, kissing him. "Don't worry, there's plenty of me to go around. Besides, I like you _way _more. You don't tear up my pant legs when you want cuddles."

Arthur smirked. "I hope that's not the only reason."

"Nah. But if I told you, I'd go on all day and you'd just get all embarrassed and stuff."

Alfred put Will down, and the cat ran over to the front door. Arthur stood up and opened the door to let him outside. "Then let's not do that."

"Wanna watch a movie instead?"

"That sounds marvelous."

Alfred scooted over on the couch to make room when Arthur sat back down, smiling at him. They snuggled together on the couch while they watched the film, until Arthur got up to let Will back inside. Almost immediately, Alfred heard him yell, "Oh, no! Take that back outside at _once! _ That is disgusting and is _not _staying in the house!"

"What'd he do?" Alfred got up off the couch to see what all the fuss was about, and Will pranced over with a dead goldfinch in his mouth.

Arthur wrinkled up his nose. "The cat killed the state bird and brought it into the house."

"Well, that's-"

"Repulsive. And I am _not_ touching a dead bird."

"Scottish Fold don't care," Alfred proclaimed. Will dropped it at Alfred's feet and purred, flicking his tail back and forth.

"AH! Get it off the floor!" Arthur put a hand over his eyes. "Why must I own such a murderous creature?"

"Oh, it's for me? Thanks, buddy." Alfred grimaced. "Go get a plastic bag, I got this."

When he had disposed of the dead finch and Arthur had scrubbed the floor to his content, they resumed watching the movie, Will curled up on Alfred's stomach and purring softly. "I believe that was Will's way of showing his love for you," Arthur muttered. "He brought me a dead baby rabbit a few months after I adopted him. I was mortified, but he just seemed very pleased with himself."

Alfred just smiled to himself. It seemed like both members of the Kirkland household loved him, then. And with one arm around Arthur's waist and a hand on Will's head, he found himself thinking that he could definitely get used to this.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! I hope this chapter was worth the wait (again, sorry!). So, expect my next update to be more like my regular ones, since all the stress-causing events in my life have settled down. Hooray!_

_As always, point out any mistakes you see. I like it when you guys help me out! It makes me feel like we have a special connection or something… I dunno. Anyways, I hope to be updating soon!_


	9. All My Loving

_And here we are, with a sort of regular update! Yay, me!_

_So, an anonymous reviewer (completely anonymous, they reviewed as a guest) said that they "could have sworn" they read this story before and it was completed. This is my own original content, and while I'm certain there are other stories out there with Alfred as an I.T. guy, I've yet to read any that even remotely resemble this one. __Unless someone's been stealing my stories (without giving me credit for writing them, as I've given people permission to post them other places as long as they credit me as the author), then this isn't the case. And if someone has been stealing my stories, I will go off on a huge rant about plagiarism at them and make them feel guilty._

_Ahem. Anyways, on with the show! And seriously guys, don't plagiarise. It's not cool, and it makes artists get discouraged since they don't get the praise they deserve for their hard work._

* * *

After that, Alfred was surprised by how little changed in his and Arthur's relationship. Sure, he introduced Arthur to his parents (and his mom ooh'd and ahh'd over his accent for half an hour), and Arthur occasionally came with Alfred when he'd go out for lunch or whatever with Matthew, but that was about it. They didn't see each other as much at work, since Alfred got the promotion and spent most of his time in the office with Gil, coordinating meetings, fixing problems with the overall technology of the office, and even corresponding with the I.T. guys from the other branches of the company. But when they could, Alfred and Arthur ate lunch together, either in the cafeteria or in Alfred's office. Gilbert didn't really care if people ate in there or not, as long as they didn't spill on anything important.

One such day, they were eating at the round table that was supposed to be for individual meetings and conference calls, but was really just a food storage area. Arthur suddenly seemed to remember something, and he sighed. "I have to go out of town next week. There's a conference in San Diego I'm being forced to attend against my will."

"How long'll you be gone?"

"Tuesday to Friday. The plane leaves on Tuesday night, since the conference starts on Wednesday morning, and I'll get back late on Friday."

"Well, that sucks."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I know. And it's a complete waste of time." He took a bite of his sandwich, and then pointed at Alfred, who raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah?"

Arthur chewed quickly and swallowed. "Can you watch Will for me?"

"Sure. Do you want me to just drop by in the mornings and evenings to feed him, or…?"

"Just stay at my place. He gets lonely, and when he gets lonely, he likes to tear up the furniture."

"Okay!" Alfred picked up his water bottle and took a sip. "Sounds like a plan."

"I'll show you where all the necessities are and give you a key this weekend." Arthur paused and glared at his sandwich. "This is definitely _not_ Swiss cheese. It's American cheese."

"That stuff is an insult to both my country, and to a totally amazing food. So, I'll just bring all my crap for Tuesday to Friday and leave it at your place, right?"

Arthur nodded. "That would work nicely."

That next Tuesday, instead of heading home after work, Alfred drove over to Arthur's. He went in through the garage instead of the front door, a first for him, and decided to change out of his work clothes. Will ran over to see him right away, weaving in and out of his legs happily before sitting on his feet. "Hey there, buddy." Alfred picked him up. "You know, sometimes I swear you act more like a dog than a cat. Well, whatever. Guess who gets to be your daddy for the next few days? Me!" Will, if he understood any of that, didn't show it. Instead, he curled up in Alfred's arms and purred. "Well," Alfred said with a shrug, "I guess it's food time for both of us. But I'm gonna go put some sweats on first. Comfy clothes, for the win!"

Later that night, when Alfred was lounging on the couch with the latest book from the book club (the sci-fi novel, _1Q84_, that they chose after they were done with _The English Patient_), and was giggling to himself at a rather inelegant description of a lesbian sex scene, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket with some difficulty, since Will was sitting on his chest. "Professional hero Alfred F. Jones speaking. How may I help you?"

"Is that how you answer your phone these days?" It was Arthur, unsurprisingly. He probably wanted to check up and make sure Alfred had remembered to feed the cat.

"Maybe. So, what's up?"

"I just arrived at the hotel. It's a rather boring place, sadly."

"Sounds like most hotels. Oof!"

"What are you doing?"

"Lying on the couch. Will decided to step on my neck."

"Oh, he does that. How is he, anyways?"

Alfred shrugged to himself. "He's weird. One second he's all cuddly and in my face, the next he runs off and hides for half an hour."

"Glad to hear that he treats you the same way he treats me. If you're really lucky, he'll cough a hairball up into your shoes."

"Oh, yay." Alfred sighed. "Was he dropped on his head as a kitten?"

"I don't know. Most cats are like this, or so I think."

They chatted for a while longer, until Alfred heard Arthur sigh, a slight rush of static on the line. "Well, I'll let you go. I should shower and get to bed now."

"Ditto. Talk to ya later, Artie!"

"Goodnight, Alfred. I love you."

"Love you too." Alfred felt a little stupid, but each time he said that, he blushed. When he hung up, Will had settled down on his chest and was flicking his tail slightly, staring at him. "What?" Alfred said. "Don't judge me, I feed you."

…

The rest of the week passed about the same, except for Will waking Alfred up on Thursday by quite deliberately stepping on his face and meowing loudly until he actually got up and fed him. By Friday night, Alfred was exhausted from being Will's sole source of entertainment. When the cat finally put himself to bed in the study, curling up into a little ball on the bed Arthur kept in there for him, Alfred sighed and shook his head. "Arthur _seriously_ needs to get you a playmate. Preferably a kitten, so you know how I feel. Jeez."

Alfred didn't know when Arthur was going to get home, so he decided to just go to bed, flopping down on his side of the bed. It was finally getting pretty wintery, and he was kind of cold, so it took him a while to get comfy enough to sleep. He was woken up by the bedroom door opening, and he blinked himself awake, staring at the light coming in from the hallway. "Arthur?"

"Yes, it's me. Were you asleep?" Alfred nodded. Arthur sighed. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to wake you." Arthur set something on the floor, probably his suitcase. "I'm going to go change and brush my teeth, but I'll be right back."

"M'kay." Alfred rolled over, closing his eyes again. He noticed when the bed dipped with Arthur's weight, and snuggled up to him. "How was the flight?"

"Not too terrible. I'm just glad to be home."

"Mmh." Alfred couldn't see in the dark without his glasses, so he just kissed along Arthur's jaw until he found his lips. "Glad you're home too. Love ya."

"I love you too." Arthur kissed Alfred on both cheeks and then on the lips. "Now let's go to sleep. We'll have all day tomorrow to talk."

Alfred was, of course, already half-asleep again by then. Arthur's voice was just so soothing when he talked like that… it had to be the accent.

…

The next morning, when Alfred woke up, Arthur had somehow managed to wrap himself around him, his face buried in Alfred's chest. And while it was absolutely adorable, Alfred _really_ had to pee. So he wiggled his way out of bed and went to the bathroom, deciding to wash his face, brush his teeth, and comb his hair while he was at it. He got back to the bedroom to see Arthur blinking sleepily at the ceiling.

"Good morning! You just woke up?"

"Mhm." Arthur stretched, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long. Nature called, that's all."

"Ah."

Alfred climbed back in bed, kissing Arthur on the nose. "You're cute when you're sleepy."

"Hmph. Either let me get up or get back in here and cuddle."

"Yessir." Alfred slid back under the covers. "By the way, Will either knows how to open doors or he can crawl under them."

"I know. I've never caught him in the act, but I swear he can flatten himself like a pancake."

"Yeah." Alfred shook his head, remembering how one morning, Will had caught _them_ in the act and had meowed loudly enough to nearly give both him and Arthur heart attacks. Arthur had, naturally, freaked out and shooed him out of the room right away, but it was still incredibly embarrassing. Really, he was just a cat, but Alfred figured it was kind of like having a small child walk in on that. Not okay. He pushed that out of his mind and snuggled back up to Arthur, who sighed and sat up.

"And now _I _have to piss."

"Aw…"

Arthur kissed Alfred on the forehead. "I'll be right back." Sure enough, a couple minutes later, Arthur reappeared, his hair a little less messy. "All right, budge over."

Alfred scooted over to make room for him, and when Arthur was settled, he closed his eyes and buried his face into the crook of Alfred's neck. "Hey," Alfred whispered, prompting Arthur to lift his head up and raise his eyebrows. "Wanna make out?"

Arthur smirked, rolling his eyes. "You _really_ have to ask?"

"Is that a yes?"

"You tell me."

Alfred kissed Arthur, and when he didn't get a negative reaction (because when Arthur meant no, he _meant_ it and had no problem with pushing Alfred off of him. And onto the floor sometimes), assumed Arthur was okay with it. That theory was confirmed when Arthur suddenly kissed him back fiercely, pulling Alfred to him and tangling a hand in Arthur's hair.

Only a couple minutes into their make-out session, Alfred moved his leg forward a little, and he could tell Arthur was hard. He couldn't help but smirk into the kiss, something Arthur noticed. He pulled away for a moment. "What is it?"

"Nothin'. You're just really into it this morning." Alfred winked, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"So sue me. I haven't seen you all week, and I've been too tired in the evenings to even _think _of taking matters into my own hands. Literally." Alfred snickered at that, but was cut off with a gasp when Arthur suddenly cupped his groin. "And you're one to talk, you're just as bad!"

"Okay, true." Alfred nuzzled Arthur's nose, making him blush. "I missed you this week."

Instead of rolling his eyes and saying 'pish-posh' or 'sod off, you sappy wanker' like Alfred expected, Arthur just smiled and replied, "I missed you too."

And to hide his embarrassment, Alfred kissed Arthur again. It wasn't really normal for them to get all mushy and stuff, and Alfred always felt like an idiot whenever it happened, because he had no idea how to react. So he contented himself with just kissing Arthur, his fingers dipping into the Englishman's pajama pants. He raised his eyebrows when Arthur rolled on top of him.

This time, Arthur did roll his eyes. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"We both know you were going to say something."

"Okay, true."

Arthur settled himself on top of Alfred, straddling him, his hands sliding down to the hem of Alfred's shirt. "Get this out of the way." Alfred was more than happy to comply, and when he dropped his shirt on the floor, Arthur was already unbuttoning his own pajama shirt. He tossed it away and guided Alfred's hands to his hips, sighing when Alfred grabbed his ass. "Really?"

"Can't help it." Alfred grinned. "I think my hands have suddenly developed a magnetic attraction to your ass."

"My hand is soon going to develop a magnetic attraction to your head."

"Which one?" Alfred waggled his eyebrows, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You are…"

"Amazing? Phenomenal? Sexy?"

"About to get pushed out of bed of you don't stop talking."

"If you get off me and take off your pants, we can make sure I shut up."

Arthur's eyebrows went up and he sat back, pulling off his pants. Alfred had to admit, that _was_ a pretty compelling argument. Of course, as soon as Arthur got his pants off, they heard a scratching and meowing at the door. They both sighed. "Piss off, Will," Arthur called, "I'm busy."

Will didn't feel like listening to Arthur, and continued making a fuss. "God fucking dammit," Alfred muttered, "it's like he _knows_, I swear!"

"I know." Arthur cast a glance at the door. "You know, I just remembered that the shower in the master bathroom _is_ big enough for two…"

"Gotcha."

By the time Arthur finally went and opened the bedroom door for Will, he did _not_ look pleased, and marched off, tail held high. Arthur muttered something about idiot cats before closing the door again. "By the way," he announced, "Francis has invited us to his place for lunch today."

"Really?"

"You can see the text for yourself." Arthur gestured to his phone. "And make sure _not _to dress up, just so he can complain about our horrible fashion sense."

"Okeydokey." Alfred was scrolling through Arthur's phone. "Found it!"

'_Come over for lunch on Saturday.'_

'_No thanks, I'll be busy.'_

'_Fine, bring your American with you.'_

'_My American?'_

'_Yes. And don't say no, or I'll bring myself to you.'_

'_God, you're persistent.'_

'_Is that a yes?'_

'_YES. Now bugger off.'_

"Man, you guys even fight when you text… jeez."

"I know. I blame him, he blames me."

"Are you sure you two aren't secretly married or something, and that's why you bicker so much?"

Arthur laughed. "If Francis and I were married, one of us would surely be either dead or severely injured by now. I can only tolerate his presence for about three hours-"

"Unless he says or does something that pisses you off. So, every other minute. You almost hit him with a teakettle once."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Arthur muttered. "Now let's hurry up and get dressed. If we're late, he'll make countless innuendos."

Alfred shrugged. "He'll do that anyways."

"Yes, well… let's not give him a reason to."

…

When they arrived at Francis' house, Alfred was surprised it wasn't all fancy-looking. "It just looks like a house!"

"Of course it does," Arthur said with a sigh. "What were you expecting?""

"I dunno. Something more… French."

Francis' typically flamboyant attitude certainly made up for the sadly un-fancy exterior of his home, however, and he kissed Alfred on both cheeks upon opening the front door. "Welcome, _mon ami!_ And you as well, Arthur."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what you need help with, already."

"Come inside, make yourselves at home! And Arthur, I need your advice."

"We'll see. That depends on if you actually need advice on something worthwhile."

Alfred peered around, satisfied that Francis had decorated the interior of his house to be French enough. He noticed a couple photos on a bookshelf, and inched over to peek at them while Arthur and Francis talked. One of them was of Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert, at least five years younger, all grinning at the camera. The other was of Francis and Arthur, smiling at someone (or something) off-camera, and Alfred couldn't figure out where they were. It looked like they were on some kind of porch. Just as Alfred was trying to decide whether it was a restaurant or a house, Arthur suddenly appeared by his side. "Francis, I told you to throw out that picture!"

"When I look so beautiful? _Tu rigoles!"_

"I'm not kidding."

"Of course not." Francis shook his head, sitting down in an armchair. "I know you still have your copy at home on one of your bookshelves."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"So, lemme guess." Alfred nudged Arthur. "You two only hate each other when you have an audience. Cuz I've never seen you sit next to each other without making a fuss. Ever."

"Rubbish." Alfred raised his eyebrows, and Arthur sighed. "All right, maybe. Francis is an insufferable git, but a good friend."

"I am a doctoral candidate, I am most certainly _not_ a git!"

Without even turning around, Arthur replied, "Don't even try to deny the insufferable part."

"Maybe." Francis crossed his legs lazily and nodded at Alfred. "Has he told you how we met?"

"Nope."

Arthur smirked. "It's a bit of a funny story, really."

Francis gestured to the couch next to him. "Sit, lunch is still in the oven."

Alfred shrugged and sat down. "So, how _did _you guys meet?"

Arthur took his usual place, sitting next to Alfred, and he thought for a moment. "It was… the summer right after I first moved here. I was taking a bus to a city in Idaho, since there had been a flood and they needed volunteers to help with the clean-up and reparations. I got off the bus to transfer to another, and _he_-" Arthur paused and nodded at Francis, "was right behind me the whole time. And then when I was walking to the volunteer center, he was _still_ right behind me. So I turned around to call him a creep and tell him to back off."

"I was going to Idaho to volunteer as well, and had no idea of any of this, so when some angry Englishman started yelling that I was a pervert, I naturally started yelling back, then stormed off."

"That's when I noticed we were heading to the same place. And when I got to the hotel, I learned we were going to be sharing a room."

Alfred cringed. "Awkward…"

"Very."

"We didn't acknowledge each other's presence for two days," Francis declared.

Arthur smirked. "Until one night, some idiot Frenchman took it upon himself to flirt with some guy who was there with a church group, and nearly got himself killed."

"Arthur kindly stepped in to stop them, and got punched in the face."

"I was not going to stand for that."

"So we more or less helped each other in a bar fight."

"Two fairly normal-sized Europeans against a group of good old football playing, Texan, country boys. It didn't end well."

Francis shook his head. "Not at all. We had to drag ourselves back to the hotel, but not before Arthur called them… what was it? A band of mouth-breathing, arse-licking cuntbags?"

"I think that's right. Anyways, it's hard not to be friends with someone after you get the snot beaten out of you together."

Francis laughed. "True, quite true. We kept in touch when we got back to Seattle, and became drinking partners."

"I _still_ have the scars on my knuckles from that one fight…" Arthur sighed and shook his head.

"The one where you punched someone through a window?"

"Yes."

A timer went off just then, and Francis jumped up. "Ah, I need to check on the food!"

When he was gone, Alfred turned to Arthur and asked, "How many fights have you been in?"

Arthur thought for a moment. "Since I moved here, it's been… twenty-three? Most of those were Francis' fault."

"Lunch is ready!" Francis had already served them all. "Main course is rack of lamb with rosemary sprigs and sage, fresh baguette, and a side salad of spinach, walnuts and grapes with a raspberry vinaigrette and _chèvre_. That's goat cheese, by the way. Nothing too fancy for dessert, just a few _Paris-Brest_."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Always so highbrow… can't you ever make something simple, like a stew?"

"But of course! My _pot-au-feu_ is phenomenal, but I'm saving that for tomorrow. I've got a bit of a date with Matthew."

"Ah."

"Looks good, but the salad sounds like something my dad says would make you grow breasts… fresh, fruity, and feminine." Alfred didn't think he said anything really bad until Arthur put a hand over his eyes, cringing, and Francis blinked at him, shocked.

"Your father is a _barbarian_, then."

"He's American," Arthur added, and Francis tilted his head.

"True, true."

"Hey!"

Francis shrugged. "Sorry, but your men are all about their… meat and potatoes. But you can't stand a good beer… such a waste."

Alfred decided to ignore them by sitting down and eating. Arthur sat down as well and sighed. "So, what do you need to talk about?"

"Hm?"

"You never force me to come for lunch unless something's happened. So, tell me."

Francis sighed. "As I said earlier, I need your advice."

Arthur picked up his teacup (Alfred just noticed he was the only one who had tea instead of water). "Advice on…?"

"Relationships. Specifically, my relationship. You see, Matthew and I have a bit of an ongoing spat about something."

"Go on."

"I teach a few classes, since I'm a graduate student, and in one of those classes, there's a group of freshman girls. Very giggly, very silly, a bit…" Francis gestured vaguely with his hands. "…airheaded, so to speak. And because it's fun to make them blush and titter amongst themselves, I like to wink at them and so on. It's only joking, of course, but Matthew seems to think I desire to sleep with them."

"And do you?"

"No! Freshmen… they're like children, almost! So stupid and immature. I want nothing to do with them when it comes to romance."

Arthur shrugged and took a bite of lamb. "Have you told Matthew this?"

"I've certainly hinted at it enough for-"

"Nope," Alfred interrupted. "Not good enough. Mattie needs you to be direct with him about that kind of stuff. No beating around the bush crap."

Arthur nodded. "Listen to Alfred. Honestly Francis, I don't want to see you fuck up _another_ relationship just because you're an idiot."

"What do you propose I do?" Francis sighed.

"Well, Matt doesn't like people making a big fuss about stuff for him, so just be subtle. He's not the attention-whore type."

"Agreed. And the next time you're around those girls with Matthew, do something to show you're committed to each other. Also, just… back off on the flirting a little. Especially over winter break."

Alfred tilted his head. "Yeah, me and Matt are going home to our parents' place for a few days, so don't be a flirt while we're gone."

"Including antics under the mistletoe. I know that'll be difficult for you, since you're a bit of a man-whore, but-"

"Hey! Not anymore."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "So prove it."

Francis sighed. "You do have a point, I'll admit it."

"All right, are we done with the advice-giving? Because my food is getting cold." Arthur gestured with his fork.

"Yes, yes. Well, _bon appetit_."

…

A couple weeks later, Alfred was sitting at home, waiting for Arthur to come over when he got a phone call. He ran around the apartment, trying to find it. When he finally found it, he saw Matthew's number and answered it with a grin. "Wazzahp?"

"Please never answer like that again."

"Fine, fine. Spoilsport. Whaddya need, Mattie-o?"

"Don't call me that either. And we need to plan out how we're going to get to the parental household for Christmas."

"Oh, yeah. We're leaving on the twenty-third, right?"

"Yep, and staying until the twenty-ninth. Let's only take one car, it'll save money."

"Okay. So… how 'bout you swing by and pick me up and I'll pay for half the gas?"

"Sounds good. I'll pick you up after lunch, so you can spend the morning with Arthur."

Alfred smiled. "Thanks, dude." The buzzer rang, so he went and pressed the button, covering the receiver for a moment. "Door's open!" He spoke to Matthew again. "But I bet you're only doing that 'cuz you wanna spend time with Francis."

"Well…"

"Either way, it's nice. I'm just saying, you only do nice stuff for me if you benefit from it too."

He heard footsteps outside the door, so he opened it and smiled at Arthur, who tilted his head when he saw Alfred was on the phone. Alfred mouthed, 'talking to Matt,' before speaking again. "Anyways, you'll get me on the twenty-third, right?"

"Yep. Let me know if you want me to pick you up at your place or at Arthur's, okay?"

"Will do. Talk to ya later!"

"Okay. Bye, Al."

Alfred hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket while explaining, "I had to make driving plans with Matt for next week, and we needed to decide who was driving who."

"Ah, I see."

"I just wonder how long it is until I can stop visiting for the holidays without pissing anyone off."

"That depends on how far away they live."

Alfred made a face. "It's only a couple hour drive, so… no real excuse."

"Well then, I suppose it's more of a matter of how busy you can make yourself."

"Remind me to get a kitten or something soon."

Arthur smiled, like he knew something Alfred didn't. "I'll try to." He looked over at Alfred's living room. "Why do you have the window open? It's freezing outside."

"Oh! Right." Alfred ran over and closed the window. "Sorry, sometimes I just don't notice the cold."

Arthur smiled before blinking a couple times and grimacing. "Oh, god."

"What?"

"I just had the sappiest thought ever. That is _never_ happening again." He shook his head. "Anyways, you said there was somewhere you wanted to go?"

"Yeah, there's a free concert downtown. Some really famous jazz orchestra is playing because they got snowed in at the airport, and have nothing else to do. You up for it?"

"Which orchestra?"

"I think it's the Count Basie one. My dad took Matt and me to see them when we were in high school, and they were pretty awesome."

"Sounds good to me."

"All right! Let me grab my stuff, and we can go."

…

The next week, on the 23rd, Alfred sent Matthew a quick text. '_pick me up Arthur's, kay?'_

'_Okay. You have your suitcase?'_

'_yep!'_

"What are you doing?"

"Sending nude pics of myself to Gilbert. YOLO!" Arthur raised his eyebrows, and Alfred laughed. "I'm being sarcastic, don't worry. Seriously, I'm just texting Matt."

"That makes much more sense. By the way, here's your coffee."

"Oh! Yay. You know what's really weird? Matt puts maple syrup in his coffee. Ever since high school, he's done that."

"That is rather odd."

They had just eaten brunch (waffles and bacon, courtesy of Alfred. No way in _hell_ was he going to let Arthur cook), and Alfred was sitting at the kitchen table, wondering how long he could wait to ask Arthur when they were going to open presents. He didn't have to, apparently, as Arthur finished off his tea and nodded at Alfred's coffee. "Whenever you're done with that, we can go exchange gifts."

"Yay!"

"You can stop bouncing now."

Alfred realized just then that he was indeed bouncing up and down with anticipation. Oops. "Oh. Okay." He drank his coffee in one big gulp. "I hid your present in my suitcase. Well, I didn't really _hide_ it, per se, but… yeah." Alfred hopped up to get it out of his bag. "Also, sorry it looks like a three-year-old on a sugar high wrapped it. But this is the best-looking out of all of the presents I did for anyone, believe it or not. On Matt's, I cut the paper too short and had to cut an extra strip and tape it in the middle, so… yeah, it's a mess."

Arthur shook his head, sitting on the couch in the living room. "Don't worry. Your present's wrapping isn't exactly a work of art either."

Alfred passed the package to him and sat down as well. "You go first."

"All right." Arthur pulled the paper off, surprising Alfred by tearing at it violently.

"Jeez, you're vicious," Alfred mumbled, and Arthur laughed.

"Thank you, I suppose." He held up several cardboard sleeves. "This is… every single Beatles album on vinyl."

"Yeah. I know you're a big fan of them and all, even though you don't really talk about it. Whenever I go to use your car stereo, you've always got one of their CD's in there, and I've heard you playing them in your office too. Plus you're _always_ singing Beatles songs in the shower."

"But I don't have a record player."

"Yeah. I know. The rest of your present is in my car."

"You didn't."

"I did." Alfred shrugged. "I can go get it now, if you want, I mean-"

Arthur shut him up with a kiss, leaning their foreheads together when he pulled back. "And here I was, thinking you were completely oblivious."

"Hey!"

"No, it's a compliment. Alfred, this is… it's perfect. Thank you so much. I've wanted a record player for years now." He smiled. "Where did you find it?"

"I found a guy. So, uh… want me to go get it?" Arthur nodded, and Alfred got off the couch. "Okay, I'll be right back. And don't cry or anything, okay?"

Arthur scoffed. "Oh, please. What makes you say that?"

"You're getting all emotional and stuff." Alfred went out into the cold to get the record player, and he noticed it was snowing. When he brought it back in, he wiped the snow that had fallen onto it with his sleeve. "We're getting a white Christmas this year, it looks like."

Arthur just nodded, taking the record player from Alfred. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah, um…"

Arthur put it down on the coffee table and hugged Alfred. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Alfred thought for a second. "You know, I kind of wonder what dubstep would sound like on that thing…"

Arthur smirked. "Good luck finding that on vinyl."

"Hang on, you know dubstep?"

"Of course! It started in London when I still lived there. They played it in all the clubs where the university students went." Arthur shrugged. "Anyways, let me go get your present. It's in my office."

Arthur disappeared for a minute, so Alfred sat back on the couch. He heard Arthur scolding Will, who had been in the office all morning. "Not _you_, silly creature. But I suppose you can come along too." Arthur emerged, carrying a box, Will scampering ahead of him to snuggle up to Alfred on the couch and purr. He was meowing an awful lot, Alfred thought, until he realized it wasn't coming from Will. So where was it…?

He looked at the box Arthur was holding. That looked an awful lot like the boxes they sent cats home from the animal shelter in. "No way," he whispered, and Arthur handed it to him.

"Go ahead."

Alfred opened it, and when he saw a kitten inside, he gasped. "Yes way! D'aww, it's so cute!"

The kitten clambered out of the box and onto Alfred's lap. "He doesn't yet have a name," Arthur said with a nod towards the kitten. "I decided to leave that up to you."

"Aw, he has blue eyes! How old is he?"

"Four months, I believe."

"So maybe they'll stay blue?"

"Perhaps. We'll see."

The kitten crawled up Alfred's chest and bumped their noses lightly. He seemed to tilt his head, and made a funny little 'brroot?' noise. Alfred cooed at him, scratching him behind the ears. Will seemed entirely bored by the whole thing, stretching and closing his eyes. "Okay, okay. Name." Alfred collected his thoughts (which were all over the place, mostly going, 'Squee! Kitten!'), and peered at him closely. "You're a Maine Coon, right? That's an American cat. So… I'm gonna call you after an awesome American poet, Walt Whitman. So you're Walt for short!"

Arthur nodded. "Seems fitting, I suppose."

"How'd you hide him?" Arthur hadn't been keeping the kitten at his house, Alfred knew that much.

"I had Kiku take care of him. He likes cats, so he didn't mind."

"Lucky him." Alfred suddenly realized something, and he frowned. "Hang on. I can't have pets in my apartment."

"I know." Arthur seemed nervous.

"So… is this like a divorce house? Like, I'll get visitation rights or something?"

"Not quite. I was thinking that… well… maybe you'd like to move in?"

"Oh."

Well, _that_ was a loaded question. When Alfred opened his mouth to say something (probably 'Uh…' or something similarly eloquent), the doorbell rang. They both turned to see who it was, and Alfred recognized Matthew by the door.

"That's my brother."

"I can see that." Arthur nodded and took the kitten. "You'd better go."

"But…"

"It's all right. Go."

Alfred got up off the couch and picked up his suitcase. "Okay. But we'll talk when I get back, okay?"

"Of course." Arthur held Walt out of the way as he kissed Alfred. "Have fun."

"With my family? Impossible." Matthew rang the doorbell again, obviously impatient. "Okay, okay!" Alfred waved at Matthew through the window. He turned back to Arthur. "I'll see you in week."

"I love you."

"Love you too." As Matthew rang the doorbell a third time, Alfred rolled his eyes and opened the door. "All right, let's _go_, Mr. Passive-aggressive."

"It's cold out here, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

When they were in the car, Matthew asked, "So, how did Arthur like his present?"

"I think he loves it. Thanks for hiding it at your place for me, by the way."

"No problem. Oh, by the way, our family is hosting Christmas dinner this year."

Alfred groaned and hit his head against the window. "No… why?"

"I agree. All the aunts and uncles and cousins are coming too."

"Double no… too many damn kids!"

Matthew sighed. "I know. And mom's forcing us into the bunk beds in the basement bedroom."

"Dibs on the top bunk."

"We'll see."

"Nope, it's mine."

"Not if I do something unspeakable to the mattress."

"And what if _I _do first?"

Matthew smirked. "Looks like it's a race, then."

Alfred paused for a second. "Please don't do anything unspeakable to the mattress."

"I won't as long as you won't wake me up by hitting me in the head with a pillow." Matthew glared at the car ahead of them. "Oh, so you were getting in my lane? Thank you so much for signaling your intentions, sir asshole!"

"No car accidents today, dude."

"If we _do_ get in a wreck, it won't be my fault."

"Will it be sir asshole's?"

"Or lady fuckface's."

Alfred laughed. "Nice. Oh, and you should know, you showed up at a _really_ bad time."

"What? Were you in the middle of something unspeakable on the couch?"

"In front of the cats? No way."

Matthew turned to face Alfred for a second. "Hang on, _cats?_"

"Yeah. Arthur got me a kitten. But it'll be living with him for now."

"Oh." Matthew shrugged. Then he glared again. "Oh, again? Such beautifully nonexistent signaling, you _asshole!_" Matthew flipped the man off as they passed him, and Alfred laughed.

"I think that might've been Uncle Ben."

"Oh, shit. Did he recognise us?"

"No."

"Good." Matthew sighed.

"You know, you cuss a lot when you drive. Is it because no one can hear you being actually aggressive?"

"Shut up."

After that, they got to their parents' house with little incident. Their mother opened the door for them. "Boys! Everyone, Al and Matt are here!"

"About time." Their father came over to hug both of them, and he sighed. "I keep forgetting you're both taller than me. I've gotten used to be the tallest of the house, with you two gone. So, you heard the whole family's coming, right?"

"Yeah. Even great-aunt Henrietta, right?"

"You betcha."

"When do they all get here?" Matthew asked.

"Today and tomorrow. They leave on the twenty-sixth."

"Oh god."

"Matt and I refuse to be babysitters, okay?"

"Fine, suit yourselves. Aunt Irene had a baby-"

"_Another?_ Jeez, how many kids can one woman pop out?"

Matthew elbowed him. "Al, she's right over there."

"Oh. I mean… wow! Good for her!"

Alfred's father laughed. One of their uncles waved to them. "Hey, boys!"

"Hi, Uncle Tom."

"How are you two?"

Matthew and Alfred both shrugged, mumbling, "Good, I guess." Matthew looked at Alfred and smirked, picking up his suitcase.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked before Matthew ran off.

"That top bunk is mine!"

"Oh, you ass…" Alfred trailed off as one of his little cousins toddled past. Right. No teaching the little kids new words.

…

The next day, their mother and father were in the kitchen, making dinner, Alfred and Matthew hiding at the kitchen table from all the kids.

"George, what are you doing to the potatoes?!"

"Putting cheese in them, of course."

"No!" She shoved him out of the way. "You are absolutely _not_ ruining them this time!"

"Ruining? What's that supposed to mean?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Ladies, you're both pretty. Calm down."

Their mother laughed, but their father stormed off, grumbling. One of the kids asked from the other room, "Where's Aunt Vicky?"

"In the kitchen!" She called.

Alfred sighed. "Our refuge is being invaded."

"Unfortunately. By the way, what's up?" Matthew raised his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"You're being funny. So, what is it?"

Alfred shrugged. "Nothing. Well… actually, there's something I should probably tell you."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "It's about you and Arthur _again_, isn't it?"

"Hey!"

"You need to learn how to figure these things out on your own, Al."

"Oh, shut up! You're such an asshole, Matt. Seriously, you've always been like, 'talk about your feelings' and shit, and now that I'm trying to, you keep blowing me off! So don't be a hypocrite, you…" Alfred trailed off when he noticed everyone staring at him. "Uh… I mean…"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "All right, come on." He stood up and pulled Alfred up by his arm. "Mama, we're going walking."

"You do that, dears. Be back for dinner."

"Of course." Matthew smiled at their family as they walked past. He let go of Alfred's arms when they got their shoes and coats on, and once they were outside, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "All right. Go on then, talk. What happened yesterday?"

Alfred sighed. "Arthur asked me if I wanted to move in, and before I could say anything, you showed up."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'."

"Well, that's… well." Matthew thought for a moment. "What do you think?"

"I don't know! I mean yeah, I love him, and yeah, we spend a lot of time together, but… are we ready for this?"

"You tell me."

"I just told you, I don't know! It's just… a lot of commitment."

Matthew laughed. "Commitment isn't that bad."

"Commitment is very scary, Matt! Very scary."

"Okay, maybe it is. But this could be a good way to test your relationship, you know, see if you two can handle it."

"Maybe. But what if-"

"Nope, no what if. Yes, it could be the end of your relationship. If you can't work things out, then there's no hope. But you'll have to find out at some point, right? And if it goes well, then you're set."

"Okay, you're right."

"You'll do fine. Probably."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Probably. You're _so_ reassuring, Matt."

"Hey, it's better than nothing, right?" Matthew punched Alfred on the arm lightly. "And only about seven months ago, you _hated_ Arthur. Now you're moving in together."

"Thanks. Your analysis of my relationship makes me feel great." Alfred punched Matthew back, but they both grinned at each other.

They walked back to the house, just in time to hear their father yell, "Victoria! Where's the beer?"

"Wherever you put it, honey!"

"You know," Matthew muttered, "I'm suddenly reminded of why I don't live at home anymore."

"I kind of have to agree. We lived with this for eighteen years?"

"We must be secretly superheroes or something."

…

By the time Matthew dropped Alfred off at Arthur's, only a few days later, they had their fill of family time for the next year. And Alfred was certain he was nowhere _near_ ready to adopt kids. In fact, he had become motivated to _never_ welcome a child into his home.

He walked up the stairs to Arthur's house (all the snow was neatly cleared away), waving to Matthew over his shoulder. He rang the doorbell and saw Will peek out through the window. Walt followed close behind, tilting his head and waving his tail back and forth in the air. Arthur's feet showed up, and Walt pounced on them. Alfred watched Arthur reach down and scoop him up, likely cooing nonsense words to him. He opened the door for Alfred and smiled at him. "Good afternoon, love."

"Hi. Can I hold the baby?"

"The baby?"

"A kitten is a baby cat. So yes, the baby."

Arthur shrugged and passed the kitten to Alfred. "Here you go."

"Yay!" Alfred stepped inside and kicked off his shoes. He set down his suitcase and cuddled Walt. "I need kitty therapy. My family drove me crazy."

"I see."

Alfred leaned in for a kiss, but Arthur didn't seem to notice and Alfred ended up just leaning forward awkwardly. "Um…"

"Would you like some tea?"

"Sure. Peppermint?"

"If that's what you would like."

"Yes please!"

In the kitchen, when Arthur got the kettle on and a mug out of the cupboard, Alfred put the kitten down and encouraged him to go bother Will. He waited until Arthur had set the cup down on the counter before resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder. "Hey."

"Hello."

"Guess what?"

"I don't know. What is it?"

"Yes."

Arthur looked completely perplexed, and Alfred took that moment to turn Arthur around and kiss him. This time, Arthur didn't leave him hanging, instead kissing back and resting his hands on Alfred's shoulders. When they pulled away, Arthur asked, "What do you mean by 'yes'?"

"Remember what you asked me, right before Matt came to pick me up?"

Arthur thought for a second before the realization seemed to dawn on him. "I remember. So you…?"

"Yes." Alfred nodded. "I thought about it a lot the past few days. And… well, yeah."

Arthur smiled. "I'm glad."

They weren't very good at that, the deep, emotional declarations. Alfred would stumble over his words, since he wasn't a particularly poetic person, and Arthur was just too stubborn to let himself get sappy and mushy most of the time. So they ended up just smiling at each other a lot, which seemed to work fine.

This time, their silent smiles were interrupted by the mug falling off the counter. Alfred caught it quickly. "Whoa! Where'd that come from?"

The presence of a small, furry creature on the counter answered that question. Arthur picked Walt up and set him on the floor. "No cats in the kitchen." The kettle boiled, so Arthur got the tea steeping. Walt reappeared on the counter, batting at the mug.

Arthur sighed, and Alfred picked the kitten up. "C'mon, babyface. Outta the kitchen." He walked out to the living room and set Walt down on top of Will, who was lounging on the couch. Will looked up at Alfred with a face that clearly said, 'Why? What did I do to deserve this?' Alfred went back to the kitchen. "There. Now he'll bother Will instead."

Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table by then, looking out the window. "Good. It's still snowing outside, isn't it?"

"A little, yeah. It's funny, we don't normally get this much snow." Alfred sat down. "So, when should I start bringing my stuff over?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I suppose."

"Okay." Alfred took a sip of tea. "Man, I'm tired."

"Your family is that bad?"

"Yeah. We had twenty kids under the age of fourteen in the house all at once."

"Oh." Arthur cringed. "That sounds dreadful."

"It was." Alfred sighed and leaned on his hand. "I could probably fall asleep right here. A nap sounds so awesome right now…"

"Well then, finish your tea."

"Huh?"

"If you'd like to take a nap, we can go ahead and have one." Arthur took Alfred's hand.

"Yay." Alfred drained his cup. "I'm exhausted."

Alfred could've fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he stayed awake long enough to cuddle with Arthur for a bit. They just lay there and kissed leisurely for a while, until Arthur brushed Alfred's bangs off of his forehead and murmured, "Go to sleep, love. It's all right."

He was out like a light when Arthur said that. He woke up a while later, and didn't see Arthur next to him. He was about to get up when he noticed Arthur's arm around his waist. Alfred glanced over his shoulder and grinned to himself. Arthur was fast asleep, the length of his body pressed up against Alfred's. It was always really cute when he was the big spoon.

Alfred laid his head back on the pillow, ready to close his eyes again, until he saw a ball of fur on the bed. Will was curled up near his feet, with Walt right beside him, both cats sleeping. Alfred nudged Arthur. "Psst. Wake up."

Arthur blinked a few times. "Hm?"

"Look." Alfred pointed, and when Arthur saw the cats, he smiled.

"That is far too adorable."

"Yeah." Alfred tilted his head back and kissed Arthur's cheek. "I guess we've got our own little family."

Arthur pulled Alfred a little closer to him. "It certainly seems that way."

* * *

_P.S. I finally got myself a Tumblr (about time, eh?) where I will be posting my writings! I'm not yet sure how I'm going to format multi-chapter stories, but I suppose I'll figure that out. This Tumblr machine is not easy to use for me… apparently, I'm about as technologically incompetent as Arthur in this story. Dammit._

_Also, Paris-Brest are a type of pastry. Like cream puffs, only fancier and yummier._

_Anyways, thanks for reading! Reviews are golden. Especially if they tell me I messed something up, because typos suck. I hope to see you again soon!_


	10. Why Don't We Do It In The Road?

_Holy crap, you guys. We got a hundred reviews up in here! Thank you so much, everyone! Especially you guys who have given me multiple reviews. You know who you are ;) and you're awesome :D_

_Anyways, I really did mean to get this done earlier, and I was on a roll, but… well, angst happened. I have trouble writing happy stuff when I really need a hug. But I'm over it! …mostly. Anyways, we're nearing the end of this story, and I want to thank everyone for following along with my ups and downs and sporadic update schedule._

_Enjoy my silliness!_

* * *

To celebrate the coming of the New Year, the members of the book club decided to have a get-together, just to hang out and talk. And to eat and drink, of course. Gilbert was hosting the party, so they would definitely have enough beer, but there was no guarantee he'd have any decent food. Alfred decided to play it safe and brought a fruit tray. No chips or anything, because he had resolved, for the fourth year in a row, to eat healthier. But he really meant it this time!

Anyways, as one would expect, things were a little hectic and loud. It didn't help that Gilbert was blasting German punk music (or death metal, depending on how much screaming there was) over everything, but having about thirty people crammed in a relatively small place was bound to be pretty chaotic anyways.

Alfred and Arthur found themselves squished in a corner with Toris, who Alfred got along with pretty well. Over all the noise, they had a sort of shouted conversation. "So, what's new with you?"

"Something kind of important, actually! I might not be able to come to book club as often soon."

"Dude, why?"

"Well, I'll be playing the clarinet in the Seattle Symphony Orchestra. I auditioned a few months back and I got in! I'll be second chair."

"Way to go!" Alfred clapped him on the back. "That's awesome. Aren't you guys going to be playing a Legend of Zelda concert later this year?"

"Yes, we are!"

"I'm definitely gonna have to come watch that."

Arthur shook Toris' hand. "Congratulations. To get that kind of position so young, you must have real talent."

Toris shrugged. "I started performing when I was thirteen. I played Klezmer at my sister's wedding reception, and someone videotaped it and showed it to a fried, and I started getting job offers. I really would like to keep playing Klezmer for a living, but I suppose I can always do that when I'm older."

Feliks seemed to appear out of nowhere, and jumped on Toris. "There you are!" He sighed dramatically. "I still can't believe you might be leaving us! Who else will Gilbert have to molest?"

"I'm sure he'll find someone," Toris mumbled. "Wasn't Ivan talking about bringing his sister?"

"Which one? The creepy one?"

"No, the one with…" Toris trailed off, blushing and making vague hand gestures.

"The one with giant knockers?" Arthur asked, and Feliks burst into giggles.

"Yes," Toris mumbled, nodding.

Alfred turned around. "Giant knockers?"

"If you saw her, you'd understand. Honestly, they're like watermelons. And she's quite thin, so that just makes it worse." When Alfred raised his eyebrows, Arthur insisted, "Really, even the gayest of us have to stare."

"It is pretty hard to find somewhere else to look when you're talking to her," Toris added.

Feliks tugged on Toris' arm. "Come on, I want to go get food."

"I thought you were on a diet."

"I am. Someone brought fruit!"

When they went off, Alfred turned to Arthur. "What is Klezmer, anyways?"

"Traditional Jewish wedding music. Involves a lot of clarinet and violin playing."

"How do you know that?"

"One of my friends in middle school had to go to his uncle's wedding and didn't want to be bored, so I went along. It's a very unique style of music."

"Meaning I wouldn't like it."

Arthur nodded. "Probably not. However, you do surprise me sometimes."

Alfred shrugged. "True. Oh yeah, we need to do rock-paper-scissors to decide who's driving home tonight so the other can actually have beer. No drunk driving."

"All right. By the way, your brother's here."

"I know. We make a point of ignoring each other at parties. It's fun if people get drunk and start mixing us up." Alfred glanced over at Matthew. "Whoa. Who's the chick with him, the one with the short hair?"

Arthur looked over towards where Matthew was sitting. "Ivan's sister."

"She looked normal from the back, but then she turned around and _bam!_ Boobs. Like, really big boobs."

"See what I mean?"

"Yeah. I kind of wonder if that would hurt her back…" Alfred trailed off and shook his head. "That must be Kat. She's one of Matt's friends. Anyways, rock-paper-scissors!"

Arthur lost, predictably, so Alfred cheerily grabbed himself a beer. By then, someone had snuck over and turned the music down so everyone could actually talk. Midnight was getting closer, and people started congregating by clocks, pairing up for their New Year's kisses. Alfred looked around for Kiku, but he was nowhere to be seen. As Toris had predicted, Gilbert had conveniently placed himself near Ivan's sister, unaware that Ivan was right behind him and glaring at the back of his head like he was about to smash it into the coffee table. Alfred briefly wondered what Eliza would think of this (because one moment she seemed hell-bent on castrating Gilbert, the next she was all nice and semi-flirty) before he realized that people had started counting down. He set his (now empty) beer down and joined in.

"Six… five… four… three… two… one… Happy New Year!"

Before Arthur could even move, Alfred kissed him, bending him back. Arthur grabbed Alfred shoulders so he wouldn't fall over, and when Alfred pulled back, he rolled his eyes, cheeks quite pink. "Could you _be _any more clichéd?"

"Hey, you love it. Don't lie."

Kiku had finally appeared from whatever hiding place he had holed himself up in, and was just standing there, looking happy that he had avoided any unwanted affections. Gilbert, apparently unsuccessful in his quest to make out with Ivan's sister, grabbed Kiku and kissed him on the cheek. Kiku went bright red and nearly fell over. "Pity kiss!" Gilbert proclaimed, then let Kiku go and pointed at Alfred. "You. I don't know whether you or your brother wins the award for most sickeningly adorable couple ever. It's like, you guys should be the poster boys for gay couples.

Alfred laughed, waving Gilbert off. "Sure, whatever you say." He could tell the beer was affecting them. Against his wishes, Alfred had always been a lightweight, and since he hadn't eaten anything, he could really feel the alcohol. He and Arthur probably needed to head home. Man, that was a funny thought. Home was Arthur's house now. Meaning Arthur's house was now their house. Thinking about that while tipsy was apparently mind-boggling, as Alfred had just discovered. "I should stop thinking."

"Why?" Arthur asked. Apparently Alfred didn't look as tipsy as he felt.

"Because I'm going to come up with drunk ideas, and those are never good."

"Should we get going, then?"

"Yeah. You got the car keys?"

"Right here." Arthur jingled the keys in his pocket to make a point, but Alfred got distracted by that and found himself staring at Arthur's crotch for a second.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "M'kay. Lemme say bye to Gil and Kiku."

Kiku was easy to find this time, since he was just standing off to one side, still looking a little embarrassed from the kiss. Alfred gave him a quick, one-armed side hug, since he knew that was pretty much all Kiku could handle. "I'll see you later, bro! Just text me whenever you're bored."

"I will."

Gilbert was a little more difficult to find, but Alfred eventually spotted him sitting next to Matthew and Francis. He was still eyeing Ivan's sister. Rather, he was eyeing her chest. Gilbert got famously grabby when he was drunk, so that girl definitely needed to keep her boobs well-guarded. When he noticed Alfred, Gilbert got up to give him a hug. "Happy New Year! You heading out?"

"Yeah. I'll see you at work on Wednesday!"

Gilbert sighed. "Don't remind me… see you then, though." as Alfred turned away, Gilbert slapped him on the ass. "Have fun while you can, dude!"

"You too!"

Arthur held the door open for Alfred. "Does he often do that?"

"At work, yeah. He does it to everyone, except for the two women in our department. He got slapped the first and only time he tried it."

The cold air was nice and refreshing, and Arthur turned the collar of his coat up against the wind. Alfred got the sudden urge to bite Arthur's neck, but resisted. Until they were in the car, that is. When they were both sitting down and Arthur had unbuttoned his coat a bit, Alfred leaned over and kissed his neck. He felt a quiet groan vibrate in Arthur's throat before he asked, "Alfred, love?"

"Mm?"

"Not that I don't like it, but why are you doing that?"

"Because I want to."

"Yes, but… why now?"

Alfred shrugged. "We're alone, and I kind of… get really horny when I'm tipsy."

"Good to know," Arthur muttered before pushing Alfred off and kissing him once. "Now let up, I have to drive."

"Aw…"

"It's only ten minutes to the house from here, you'll live."

At the next red light, Arthur sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, obviously impatient. Alfred decided that it'd be the perfect time to reach over and palm Arthur through his pants. Arthur jumped slightly before closing his eyes for a second. "Alfred, what did I say?"

"You don't really mean it."

"Pardon?"

"When you actually mean it, you push me off right away. But right now, you're not doing anything 'bout it." Alfred raised an eyebrow at Arthur.

The light went green, and Arthur continued driving, pushing Alfred's hands away, but not entirely. "Just… keep your hands to yourself."

"But that's boring!"

"Deal with it."

"Come on, I'll give you road head if you want."

Alfred saw Arthur swallow once before he shook his head. "No, you will not."

"Well, you can always pull over…"

"Or we can wait until we get home. Honestly, we're barely five minutes away now, so stop."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Or what?" Arthur took one hand off the steering wheel and twisted Alfred's nipple through his shirt. "Ow!"

"Or I'll bloody shag you so hard you won't sit down for a week, that's what."

"You know, I'm okay with that." Alfred slid his hand to the inside of Arthur's thigh.

Arthur took Alfred's hand and moved it away. "Sit still, and don't you even _think_ about touching me until we get home."

"Ooh, I like it when you get bossy." Alfred didn't even have to look at Arthur's face to know he was rolling his eyes.

By the time Arthur finally pulled the car into the garage, Alfred was pretty much ready to drag him out of the car and into the bedroom, but Arthur slowly undid his seatbelt, ignoring Alfred entirely.

"Come on, quit teasing me!"

Arthur grabbed Alfred's hand and pressed it onto his groin. "Don't you even _start_. I've been hard the whole drive home."

Alfred shrugged, palming Arthur's crotch. "You're the one who didn't wanna pull over, you know…"

"Because I don't want to get arrested! Drunk ideas are bad, Alfred."

"I'll let you in on a little secret. I was pretty much sober once we got back in the car. I just _really_ want you tonight." Arthur's cheeks went pink, and Alfred was pretty sure it wasn't just because of arousal.

Sure enough, Arthur had his normal reaction to being flustered: stutter unintelligibly for a moment, shake his head, and get out of the situation as quickly as possible. He opened his car door, kissed Alfred quickly, and then pretty much ran to unlock the door to the house. Alfred smiled to himself and got out of the car. After that, he was completely prepared for Arthur to pull him into the house and throw him on the bed, so he was taken aback when Arthur stopped just inside the door, cupped Alfred's face in his hands, and kissed him gently.

When he pulled away, he smiled at Alfred. "I love you."

"I love you too. Are we still gonna…?"

"Of course. I just wanted to say that first."

"Oh."

Arthur sighed. "If you say 'yay' or 'booyah,' so help me god, I will gag you."

"Didn't know you had one in your drawer of stuff." A couple months into their relationship, Arthur had timidly revealed that the bottom drawer of his nightstand was home to certain… adult items. Since then, Alfred had become acquainted with most of them. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, he didn't know.

Arthur just smirked. "I don't. But what I _do_ know is that just about any old strip of cloth works pretty well. And I wouldn't mind taking the scissors to that awful t-shirt you wear to bed."

"My Halo shirt is sacred. You wouldn't."

"Don't test me, love." Arthur tugged on the belt loops of Alfred's pants slightly. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"Right." Alfred stopped himself from saying 'yay' and instead closed the door before following Arthur to the bedroom. The cats were fast asleep in the office, luckily, and they were able to sneak past quietly without disturbing them. Once they were actually in the bedroom, Alfred stumbled over something. "Oof! What the fuck?"

"Did you just trip over your slippers?"

"Maybe."

Arthur laughed, kissing Alfred's shoulders before switching on a lamp, sitting on the bed, and pulling off his sweater. The bulky thing was _seriously _unflattering, but when Arthur was wearing nothing but a plain, button-down shirt, you could tell how thin he actually was. Alfred took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table before joining Arthur on the bed. He unbuttoned Arthur's shirt, trailing his fingers down the Englishman's chest. All that jogging he did really seemed to pay off…

Alfred looked up to see that Arthur was blushing again, but before he could ask what it was all about, Arthur cupped Alfred's face in his hands again and kissed him. Well, Alfred knew it was time to put aside his thoughts of potentially getting pounded into the mattress, but that was okay. He pulled off his shirt. "How do you want to…?"

Arthur scooted back on the bed so he was sitting with his back against the headboard. "I was thinking you could…?"

"Yeah." Alfred straddled Arthur, kissing his forehead. "I'd like that."

They took a moment to rid themselves on their pants before going back to kissing, and Alfred found that he didn't really care if Arthur took his own sweet time about this. As long as they eventually got to the best part. And sure, normally he was _way_ too impatient to take things slow when it came to sex, but this was all right.

He reached into the bedside table to grab the lube and was about to spread it on his fingers when Arthur stopped him. "I'll do it."

Alfred nodded and passed it to Arthur, then closed his eyes, waiting for it. Why was he breathing so heavily? Arthur hadn't even touched him all the much yet, and it wasn't like they were doing anything really kinky that he was nervous about. Still, his heart pounded far too quickly in his chest, and he couldn't calm himself down.

He opened his eyes when Arthur rested a hand on his thigh. Arthur was looking at him the way he normally did in that after-sex haze, where he would just stare at Alfred and smile, his eyes sparkling like he wanted to launch into some kind of epic poem praising every quality of Alfred's. But he didn't. Instead, he moved his other hand behind Alfred, pressing it in between his cheeks. "Are you ready, love?"

"Yeah," Alfred breathed, pushing his hips back slightly. Maybe if they hurried things up, he'd stop feeling so weird. He nearly shivered when Arthur wrapped a hand around his cock, his finger rubbing Alfred's prostate at the same time. "Nnh…" Alfred pulled Arthur's face to his, kissing him in an attempt to muffle a moan.

Arthur wouldn't have that, though. He pulled back and leaned his forehead against Alfred's. "Let me hear you, Al." He slipped another finger inside of him, and Alfred closed his eyes, still trying to catch his breath. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. He wanted to tell Arthur to stop, that he couldn't handle it, but he also wanted to tell him to hurry the hell up. Going that slowly was driving him nuts.

Arthur seemed to pick up on some nonverbal cue from Alfred, and he pulled his fingers out. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief as Arthur smeared lube onto his cock before wiping his hand on the bedsheets and gently holding onto Alfred's hips.

Alfred slowly lowered himself onto Arthur, able to feel every inch. Normally he'd say, 'fuck it,' and take everything at once, dealing with the pain, but not this time. Still, this… it felt almost _too_ intimate, if that was even possible. Alfred took his time about it, going slowly until he had taken all Arthur had. He waited a moment, breathing in deeply. Arthur leaned in and kissed him, running his hands up and down Alfred's sides, and Alfred let out a whisper of a groan before slowly starting to rock his hips.

He had closed his eyes at some point, but he opened them again when Arthur moved a hand up, resting it on the back of his neck. Arthur kissed Alfred's forehead, thrusting his hips up slightly, and Alfred bit his lip. Oh, that was _perfect_. "Hah… right there," he breathed, his eyes slipping shut again.

Arthur leaned his head against Alfred's, guiding him up and down slowly, pressing into the perfect spot each time. Alfred swallowed down a moan, tangling his hands in Arthur's hair, letting his hips rise and fall, his breath catching in his throat with each press of Arthur's cock against his prostate. He forced his eyes open, able to tell he was getting close already, feeling the heat coiling in his stomach, sinking lower and lower every time he moved, pushing him closer and closer.

Maybe it was because of the way Arthur was looking at him, his eyes dark and his pupils so dilated that there was barely any green left. Maybe it was because he was gently rubbing Alfred's hipbones with his thumbs, like even those completely insignificant parts of him were something worth loving. Or maybe it was because Alfred could tell that yeah, Arthur was inside of him, but he wasn't getting fucked. He had just as much control as Arthur, and that felt amazing.

Alfred couldn't help it. He half-moaned, half-whispered, "Oh, god… I love you."

Arthur breathed in sharply, his cock throbbing inside of Alfred. After a moment, he murmured, "I love you too," before pulling Alfred into a kiss. He nipped just slightly at Alfred's lower lip, causing him to shiver.

God, he was _so _close… each time he lifted himself up and slid back down, he could feel the pressure building, dragging him to the edge and flirting with pushing him over it, until Arthur wrapped a hand around Alfred's erection and ran his thumb over the edge, and Alfred was done. He came with a shuddering gasp, his hands tightening in Arthur's hair, dropping his head down onto Arthur's shoulder as he spilled himself between the two of them.

A second later, Arthur moaned breathily, his hips popping up slightly and his fingers gripping Alfred's sides, and Alfred's eyelids fluttered at the warm rush of fluid inside of him. Arthur moved his hand up to stroke the back of Alfred's neck, pressing a kiss to his ear. "You all right, love?"

"Yeah." Alfred had caught his breath enough, so he lifted his head up and kissed Arthur. "More than all right."

Arthur smiled, brushing Alfred's hair out of his face. "Should we go shower?"

"Yeah. I don't really feel like going to bed all sticky."

When they were cleaning up, Alfred lathered up his hands with soap and motioned for Arthur to turn around to he could wash his back. "I dunno if you're gonna believe me when I say this, but slow sex isn't normally my thing. I get bored a lot of the time. But with you… well, that was pretty different."

Arthur shrugged, stepping under the showerhead to rinse off. "Well, I'll take that as a good sign."

"Yeah." Alfred passed the soap to Arthur and turned around so he could return the favor. It was definitely a good sign, but it was also a little weird for Alfred. He wasn't used to that at all.

…

Once everyone was back at work and things had started back up, Alfred got to spend a lot of time chilling in the office and waiting for stuff to go wrong with the computers. Of course, a couple weeks after everyone was back at work, the internet went down building-wide in the early afternoon, so Alfred and Gilbert had to deal with countless people calling and reassure them that they were working on the problem, that no one in the entire building had internet, but that it would be fixed soon. After the thirtieth call, Alfred was seriously considering unplugging the phone.

Gilbert looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, his face was so red. "I can't figure out what's wrong with the fucking server!"

"Maybe it's something in the wires? Try switching out the cable that goes into the wall."

Gilbert shrugged. "If it's not that, then it's a problem with something in the wiring in the actual wall, and that'll be a bitch to fix."

The phone rang again, and Alfred picked it up. "We're working on it, okay? You'll have internet as soon as we've figured out how to fix the problem!" he hung up and unplugged the phone.

Luckily, switching out the cables seemed to work, and Alfred ran over to his work computer to check it. "Yep! We're back online, baby."

"Thank god." Gilbert sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. "I _hate_ it when this stuff happens."

"But now life's back to normal, at least. You know, I don't get why these people don't just go ask their colleagues if they've lost internet access too instead of driving us insane by calling."

"Because they're stupid, that's why. Ugh. I'm going to go sneak some coffee from the nice machines upstairs. You want some?"

"You betcha. Extra sugar!" Alfred took it upon himself to put that little blooper in the log of major I.T. incidents while Gilbert was off getting the coffee, since he knew Gil would ask him to do it anyway. He came back a short while later with their coffee, and they relaxed for a moment while they drank it. Alfred closed his eyes as he breathed in the aroma of the hot, fresh coffee. "Man, that smells good."

"I know. Did you file the incident?"

"Yep. Did it while you were gone."

"Awesome." Gilbert sighed. "Next week, I'll be out of the office when we're having the meeting. Dentist appointment."

"Ha. Lemme guess, you'd rather be here with us?"

"Oh, hell yes. I hate the dentist. But you're gonna have to run the meeting, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I know the drill by now." Alfred took a sip of his coffee and closed his eyes. Damn, that was nice.

"Awesome. Also, if Eliza comes down here at all while I'm gone, be super nice to her. If she likes you, she'll be less likely to yell at me."

"Does she love you or hate you?"

"I don't know, to be honest. Maybe both? I mean, it's hard not to love me. Who couldn't?"

Alfred managed to stop himself from snickering, but only barely. He had learned that Gilbert did not take well to having his ego damaged, and drew penises on people who offended him if they dozed off behind their desks.

After work, he met Arthur in the lobby of the office building, since they had driven to work together. People still hadn't seemed to notice anything between them, and in fact, thought they were just carpooling together. Only the few members of the book club who worked at the office knew otherwise. After all, he and Arthur never showed any PDA at work, so it would only make sense that no one knew. When Arthur showed up, Alfred waved at him. "Hey! How was your day?"

"Not too bad. I just have to figure out how to spend a hundred million dollars over the next ten years."

"Oh, jeez. No pressure."

"Exactly." They walked out to the car together, and Arthur asked, "What about you?"

"It was great, up until the internet went down. Then everyone had to fucking call to complain about that. Thanks for not being one of them, by the way."

"Well, I was in a meeting, and it happened to everyone in the room, so we knew it wasn't a one-person problem. But really, people _call _you about that? Don't they check with their colleagues first?"

"Nope. It drives Gil and me up the wall." Alfred shook his head. "Anyways… you want me to drive?"

"Go ahead. I got a text from someone, and it'll take me a minute to get my phone." As Alfred drove, Arthur dug around in his computer bag for his phone. "Bloody hell, where _is _it? This bag is a hyper-dimensional space, I swear… ah, there you are." He unlocked his phone. "It's from Kiku."

"Yeah. I guilted him into helping me drive the rest of my crap over this weekend. I promised him tea and time with the cats." Alfred drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"He's asking if I have the second season of Sherlock on DVD." Arthur scoffed. "Of course I do!"

"Tell him we'll marathon it when he comes over, and we can all cry like little bitches during the last episode."

"Don't remind me."

"Hey, I sobbed too. Half that box of tissues was used up because of me, remember? So many feelings…"

"And they've delayed the release of the third season." Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "It's maddening."

When they got home, Alfred opened the door to find the cats waiting there for them, apparently having heard the garage door open. "Hey there, babies! I missed you guys." Alfred bent down to pat them, scratching Will behind the ears and rolling Walt onto his back to rub his tummy. He was determined to train Walt to like it, and so far, it was working. The kitten purred and closed his eyes, after all. "But you know who I missed most?"

"Who?" Arthur asked, and Alfred stood back up.

"You, duh. I still haven't gotten my hello kiss, you know." Arthur opened his mouth to say something in reply, and Alfred took that as a chance to kiss him. Arthur kissed back, albeit not very enthusiastically. That changed when Alfred sucked Arthur's tongue into his mouth.

He dropped his computer bag, his arms circling around Alfred's neck, tugging slightly on the hair at the nape of Alfred's neck. Now _that w_as more like it. Alfred slid his hands down and grabbed Arthur's ass. They seemed to have the exact same idea, because just as Alfred lifted Arthur up, he wrapped his legs around Alfred's hips and strengthened his hold around Alfred's neck. They broke apart for air, and Arthur was already quite pink in the face. "Is it strange that I get ridiculously turned on every time you pick me up?"

"I dunno. Normally, when I do this it means you're getting laid, so…"

"We really should start on dinner." Arthur sounded very unenthusiastic about that, and Alfred figured he was protesting just for the sake of protesting.

"There's nothing wrong with eating a little late, you know." Alfred stopped anything Arthur was going to say with another kiss.

When he pulled back next, Arthur muttered weakly, "Dinner."

"You know you haven't asked me to stop or to put you down."

"Because you-" Arthur cut himself off when Alfred squeezed his ass, and Alfred felt him shiver slightly before he murmured, "Oh, fuck it."

"What was that?"

"I suppose I really should say 'fuck me,' though…" Arthur tugged at Alfred's hair, pulling him back into another kiss.

Alfred had a feeling he was _really _going to like living with Arthur.

In past relationships, there always seemed to be a reason to have sex. It was someone's birthday, or they had been on a date, or it had been a while… almost every time, there was some kind of obligatory reason to do it. Never before had Alfred experienced this kind of spontaneous, random stuff. Arthur seemed to understand that guess what? You could have sex just because you wanted to. Alfred never felt like he _had_ to with Arthur. In fact, their dates ended in sex about as often as they ended in the two of them just cuddling and falling asleep.

When they finally got around to making dinner, Alfred stared in the fridge for a moment, trying to figure out what he could to with sliced ham, Swiss cheese, a green pepper, and a bit of sad-looking celery. The milk, orange juice, and beer were not going to come in handy. He sighed. "We need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. For like, _everything_."

"I know. So… what's for dinner?"

"I'm thinking I can whip up some post-sex paninis. Really untraditional paninis, but whatever. Where's the bread?"

"Over here."

"And the waffle iron?"

"In that cupboard." Arthur pointed to the cupboard beside the stove. "Why?"

"You can flip the plate things over and turn it into a makeshift panini press."

The Swiss-ham-sautéed green pepper panini-things actually ended up tasting pretty good, Alfred thought. Especially for a meal thrown together with such a tiny selection of ingredients. Of course, they were still hungry afterwards, so Alfred took it upon himself to make dessert. …after a fashion.

Arthur peeked over his shoulder. "What on _earth_ are you doing to the celery?"

"Ants on a log. Haven't you ever had this?"

"No! Why would anyone put peanut butter and raisins on celery?"

"Um, because it's frickin' amazing! Seriously, just try it."

Arthur rolled his eyes and took a bite of the celery. "And people say the English can't cook… oh."

"Well?"

"That's… actually quite good."

Alfred grinned triumphantly. "Of course it is! Raw celery is boring, but that stuff is awesome." Arthur tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, but out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw him grab another stick of the celery and eat it. Sometimes he was just too cute for his own good.

…

That weekend, after Kiku had helped Alfred drive over all of his clothes, electronic appliances, and other miscellaneous crap, he relaxed on the couch with Arthur and Alfred as they watched the second season of Sherlock. Eventually, Kiku ended up lying on the floor and cuddling the cats while he watched, since he loved them so much.

When they had watched all three episodes and had finished passing around the tissues (since even Kiku teared up a little), Arthur got off the couch. "I'm going to go make some tea now. Is anyone opposed to raspberry zinger?"

"Nope!"

"As long as you put some honey in mine, that's fine." Kiku was still holding Walt. "He's… so fluffy."

"I know. Dude, I don't even mind it when he attacks my face, cuz he's so little and fuzzy."

Kiku smiled. "I liked taking care of him. He got along well with my kitty."

"How is the little guy, anyways? The last time I was over, he hid because of Gil."

"He's fine. Still loves his tuna, of course."

"That's good."

"And how is life for you?"

"It's pretty awesome, actually." Alfred picked Will up off the floor and draped the cat over his shoulders. He had discovered that Will made an excellent living scarf, and he normally just fell asleep once he was around someone's neck. "I'm seriously loving stuff right now. Work's great, and being home is a lot of fun too. I've got two of the most frickin' adorable cats ever, and… well, the rest is even better."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Alfred shrugged. "Not to get all mushy and stuff, but I like hugs."

"I know."

"And I like cuddles."

"I know." Kiku scratched Walt behind the ears and smiled at him.

"So… being able to cuddle up with the guy I love and our cats at the end of the day, it's just… yeah."

"It makes you happy."

"Really, really happy. So I'm going to shut up now."

Kiku had a small smile on his face, and not just because he was holding a kitten. "That's good."

Alfred cleared his throat. "Um. So. How's stuff for you?"

"Oh, everything is fine."

"Coolio. Glad to hear it."

Arthur appeared with the tea just then. "Hurry up and take it, it's _hot _and burning my bloody hands."

"Pass it here, Artie." Alfred took his cup and sipped the tea. "Oh, Jesus tits, that's hot."

"I warned you. And am I hearing things, or did you just say 'Jesus tits'?"

"Maybe. Anyways, I'm gonna go put an ice cube in this. I don't wanna wait for it to cool down."

When he went to the kitchen, he overheard Kiku say, "So, I'm supposing you hear what Alfred said?"

Alfred stopped to listen, dropping an ice cube into his cup, and heard Arthur reply. "Perhaps."

"You did."

"And?"

"You're blushing."

"Oh, shut it." Arthur sounded embarrassed. "And don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're expecting me to get all sappy and pour my heart out. Because I won't."

"Why?"

Arthur sighed. "You know I don't like to talk about relationships. And that I have trouble saying… _that_ word."

"Love?"

"Yes. And sure, maybe this is the first relationship where I _haven't_ had trouble with that, but that doesn't mean I've changed my ways. Honestly, the only person I've blabbed to about my feelings and all that nonsense is Francis. And I wasn't particularly sober at the time."

"Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to say anything."

There was a brief silence until Arthur said, "But it really is nice to have someone else around the house. It's much less lonely here. And it's certainly wonderful, not having to cook for myself so much. Honestly, the only things I can really make are stew, fish and chips, and mushy peas. And most people don't really like mushy peas."

"Does Alfred?"

"I don't know. I haven't made them for him yet."

There was another pause, and then Kiku laughed softly. "What is he trying to do?"

"I think he wants to get down from the coffee table. He follows Al around like you wouldn't believe. Come here, sweetheart."

A couple seconds later, Walt came running into the kitchen and pounced on Alfred's feet. "Kitty!" Alfred said, just on reflex. He bent down to pick him up. "Okay, let's go back to the living room. Sorry I can't use you like a scarf yet, but I'll carry you." He picked up his tea and, holding Walt against his chest, went back to the living room. "I had a visitor."

"We know." Kiku was still sitting on the floor, and he took a sip of tea. "He loves you."

"Well, duh! I give him the most cuddles and stuff." Alfred put his tea down and took Will off his neck, setting him on the couch. He just crawled into Arthur's lap and started purring. Arthur smiled and scratched Will behind the ears.

"Still, why any creature would sit in your lap while you're yelling at the PlayStation is beyond me."

"I think he thinks he's calming me down. Or he just finds it funny. Either way." Alfred looked up at the clock. "Well, someone's gotta get dinner going soon, and I guess it's gonna be me. By the way, we're having gumbo. Arthur's never had it before!"

Kiku raised his eyebrows. "You haven't?"

"No… what's the big deal?"

"It's delicious. I had a buddy in high school whose family was from Louisiana, and her mom gave me their recipe. It's the best thing ever. I'll make enough for like, three meals, so we can freeze some and keep it. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

Arthur took a sip of tea. "I don't know how many new things you've had me try since you moved in, and we've only lived together a couple weeks."

"You had a two-week rotating schedule for your menu, Arthur. That's just sad. Kiku, you stayin' for dinner?"

"If you're making gumbo, then yes. And can I have the recipe?"

"You betcha! C'mon, copy it down while I'm cooking." Alfred stood up. "And Artie, come keep us company. And go put on some music or something, will ya?"

Arthur got up off the couch as Kiku and Alfred went to the kitchen, and Alfred nudged Kiku. "I betcha it's either gonna be Abbey Road or the White Album today."

"You're mean."

"No I'm not! Why would I get him the record player in the first place if I was mean?"

Kiku shrugged. "Good point."

"Told ya so. Now, on the recipe, it calls for fresh tomatoes, but fuck that. It's winter. So use canned tomatoes if it's not tomato season, okay?"

"Okay."

After Kiku had gone home, Alfred and Arthur did the dinner dishes together, Alfred occasionally stopping to pick Walt up and take him out of the kitchen. "Man, you're a persistent little pest."

"At least he's affectionate."

"Yeah, true. I swear, he cuddles up to me more than you do."

Arthur chuckled. "I don't think you want me bothering you while you're taking a piss."

"Okay, true. Pets have no boundaries."

"How about we let the two of them sleep in our room tonight? Just this once."

Alfred smiled. "Did Walt meowing at the door last night make you feel bad?"

"Maybe." Arthur dried the last of the dishes and hung the dishtowel up. "I know you felt guilty too."

"A little, yeah." Alfred kissed Arthur on the forehead. "They can sleep in our room tonight, as long as you don't cuddle them more than you cuddle me."

"Don't worry." Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and kissed him properly. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Alfred decided he really did like living with Arthur. Sure, he left newspaper and magazines all over the kitchen table, and sure, he took forever in the bathrooms in the morning, but the rest definitely made up for that. They'd only been living together for two weeks, but it already felt like it was just how things were supposed to be.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! As always, reviews are golden. I'm hoping to get the next (and probably last) chapter up before life gets busy again, but I can't really make any promises. Well, I can promise this: this story will not go unfinished! It may be another month or so, but I will see this through to the end. And I hope you will too :)_


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